THE
PATRICIAN
EDITED BY
JOHN BURKE, ESCL
of "€l)t
VOLUME IV.
LONDON:
E. CHURTON, 26, HOLLES STREET.
MDCCCXLVII.
OS
Pv
\
LONDON :
CLAYTON AND CO., 16, HART STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
TO THE
RIGHT HON. LORD FARNHAM,
A NOBLEMAN DISTINGUISHED BY HIS HISTORIC TASTE AND
GENEALOGICAL LEARNING,
THIS VOLUME OF
-Patrician,
IN TESTIMONY OF THE EDITOR'S SINCERE ESTEEM,
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCJRIBED.
I H T"
THE PATRICIAN.
NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
i) of Eea, co.
THE reign of EDWARD III. forms the most martial and chivalrous period of
English history. On the roll of the military " worthies " it produced —
and the brilliant category includes Edward the Black Prince, Audley,
Chandos, and Manny — few names stand more prominently forward than
that of Sir HUGH CALVELEY of Lea. Froissart's romantic pen comme-
morates with graphic force the achievements of the Cheshire knight, and it
is indeed observable that the old chronicler rarely touches on Sir Hugh with-
out placing him in the very foreground of his living pictures. The family
from which this renowned warrior sprang, was a branch of the ancient
House of Calvelegh of Calvelegh, in the Hundred of Edisbury, which is
traced to Hugh de Calvelegh, who became Lord of Calvelegh in the reign
of King John by grant from Richard de Vernon. The first Calveley of
Lea was
DAVID DE CALVELEGH, (2nd son of Kenric de Calvelegh of Calvelegh,)
who obtained a grant, temp. Edward III., of the lordship of Lea, in the
Hundred of Broxton, Cheshire, previously a part of the extensive posses-
sions of the Montalts and the Montacutes. He married twice : by his
first wife Johanna he appears to have had four sons ; the eldest of whom,
SIR HUGH CALVKLEY, succeeded to Lea, and was the celebrated soldier,
whose achievements have rendered the name so familiar to the historic
reader. He first appears in the public events of his time as one of the
thirty combatants who, in 1351, engaged, in mortal strife, an equal number of
Bretons, for the purpose of deciding some differences which had arisen out
of the disorders committed by the English after the death of Sir Thomas
Daggeworth. The Bretons gained the victory by one of their party
breaking on horseback the ranks of the English, the greater number of
whom fell in the engagement. Knolles, Calveley and Croquart were cap-
tured and carried to the castle of Josselin. The Lord of Tinteniac, on
the enemy's side, and the gallant Croquart, on the English, obtained the
prizes of valour. Such was the issue of the famous " Combat of Thirty."
A cross, still existing, marks the battle field, known to this day as " Le
champ des Anglois." In a few years after, Sir Hugh commanded a divi-
VOL. iv. — NO. xv. B
2 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
sion of the English forces at the battle of Auray, to which Froissart refers
in the following interesting narrative.
" Sir John Chandos formed three battalions and a rear guard. He
placed over the first Sir Robert Knolles, Sir Walter Huet, and Sir Richard
Burley. The second battalion was under the command of Sir Oliver de
Clisson, Sir Eustace D'Ambreticourt and Sir Matthew Gournay. The Earl
of Montfort had the third, which was to remain near his person. There
were in each battalion five hundred men-at-arms and four hundred archers.
When he came to the rear- guard, he called Sir Hugh Calveley to him, and
said, ' Sir Hugh, you will take the command of the rear- guard of five-
hundred men, and keep on our wing, without moving one step, whatever
may happen, unless you shall see an absolute necessity for it ; such as our
battalions giving way, or by accident broken j in that case, you will hasten
to succour those who are giving way, or who may be in disorder ; and
assure yourself, you cannot this day do a more meritorious service.'
When Sir Hugh heard Sir John Chandos give him these orders, he was
much hurt and angry with him, and said, ' Sir John, Sir John, give the
command of this rear-guard to some other; for I do not wish to be
troubled with it ;' and, then, added, * Sir knight, for what manner of
reason have you thus provided for me ? and why am I not as fit and proper
to take my post in the front rank as others?' Sir John discreetly answered,
' Sir Hugh, I did not place you with the rear- guard because you were not
as good a knight as any of us ; for, in truth, I know that you are equally
valiant with the best ; but I order you to that post, because I know you are
both bold and prudent, and that it is absolutely necessary for you or me
to take that command. I therefore most earnestly entreat it of you ; for,
if you will do so, we shall all be the better for it ; and you, yourself, will
acquire great honour ; in addition, I promise to comply with the first re-
quest you may make me.' Notwithstanding this handsome speech of Sir
John Chandos, Sir Hugh refused to comply, considering it as a great
affront offered him, and entreated, through the love of God, with uplifted
hands, that he would send some other to that command ; for, in fact, he was
anxious to enter the battle with the first. This conduct nearly brought
ears to the eyes of Sir John. He again addressed him, gently saying ;
tSr Hugh, it is absolutely necessary that either you or I take this com-
mand; now, consider which can be most spared.' Sir Hugh, having con-
sidered this last speech, was much confused, and replied ; ' Certainly, Sir,
I know full well that you would ask nothing from me, which could turn
out to my dishonour ; and, since it is so, I will very cheerfully undertake
it.' Sir Hugh Calveley then took the command called the rear- guard,
entered the field on the wing of the others, and formed his line. It was on
Saturday the 8th of October, J364, that these battalions were drawn up
facing each other, in a handsome plain, near to Auray in Brittany. I must
say, it was a fine thing to see and reflect on ; for there were banners and
pennons flying with the richest armour on each side ; the French were so
handsomely and grandly drawn up, it was great pleasure to look at them."
Froissart proceeds to narrate the vain efforts made by the Lord
de Beaumonor to bring about a treaty of peace, and then eloquently de-
scribes the result. " Sir John Chandos returned to the Earl of Montfort,
who asked, ' How goes on the treaty ? What does our adversary say ?'
* What does he say !' replied Chandos ; ' why he sends word by the
Lord de Beaumanoir, who has this instant left me, that he will fight with
you at all events, and remain Duke of Brittany, or die in the field.' This
NEGLKCTED GENEALOGY. «3
answer was made by Sir John in order to excite the courage of the Earl
of Montfort ; and, he continued saying, ' Now, consider what you will
determine to do, whether to engage or not.' ' By St. George/ answered
Montfort, ' engage will I, and God assist the right cause. Order our
banners to advance immediately.' '" We need not relate the details, romantic
though they be, as detailed in the glowing language of the Chronicler ; suffice
it to add that the post assigned to the knight of Lea proved not inglorious,
that, in more than one emergency, the failing forces of the English were
sustained by his reserve, and that among the leaders who contributed in the
most eminent degree to the famous victory of Auray, no small share of the
glory may, with justice, be given to Sir Hugh Calveley.
We next find our hero, not very reputably engaged, as a Captain of the
Free Companies, composed partly of disbanded soldiers and partly of ban-
ditti, who had enlisted in the service of Henry of Trastamare against Pedro
the Cruel. Shortly after, however, the Black Prince having joined the
army of the King of Castile, Sir Hugh placed himself under the command
of his old General, the illustrious Chandos, and distinguished himself by
many feats of valour at the bloody battle of Navarette.
In 1377, Holinshed relates, " Sir Hugh Calvelie was sent over to Calis,
to remain upon safe keeping of that town as deputie there ; and in the
same year comming one morning to Bullongne, he burnt certeine ships,
which laie there in the haven, to the number of six and twentie, besides two
proper barks, and having spoiled and burnt the most part of the base towne,
returned to Calis, with a rich bootie of goods and cattell." The same his-
torian further informs us that this doughty knight recovered the castle of
Marke, which had been betrayed by "certeine Picards stipendiarie soldiers
in the said Castell," and goes on to state that " Sir Hugh slept not at his
business. Shortly after Christmas, A.D. 1378, he spoiled the town of
Estaples, the same daie the fair was kept there," and in the next spring, as
Admiral of England, conveyed the Duke of Britany to a haven near St.
Maloes, and repelled, with the most dauntless bravery, a sudden attack made
by the French vessels. In 1380, he encountered the tremendous storm
which destroyed a large portion of the expedition to Brittany, and was one
of eight who took to the masts and cables, and were dashed on shore by
the violence of the storm.
The crusade of the Bishop of Norwich against the Clementists brings Sir
Hugh Calveley once more forward, " an opponent of his leader's measures
in the cabinet, but a vigorous supporter in the field/'* until after a series of
successes, his troops were surprised in Bergues by the French king, with
superior numbers, and Sir Hugh, abandoning the contest as hopeless, re-
turned to Calais. The following is Froissart's interesting description of the
event : —
" Sir Hugh Calveley, on his arrival at Bergues quartered himself and
his men in the different hotels and houses of the town ; they were in the
whole, including archers, more than four thousand men. Sir Hugh said,
' I am determined to keep this town ; it is of good strength and we are
enough to defend it. I expect we shall have, in five or six days, reinforce-
ments from England ; for they will learn our situation and also the force of
our enemies.' All replied, ' God assist us.'
Upon this he made very prudent regulations ; on dividing his men under
pennons and into companies, to mount the walls and guard the gates, he
found he had numbers sufficient. He ordered all the ladies, women,
* Ormerod.
B 2
4 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
children, and lower classes of inhabitants to retire into a church, from
whence they were not to stir.
The King of France was at the abbey of Ranombergues, and learnt that
the English had retreated to Bergues. A council was held on the occasion,
when it was ordered that the van, with the constables and marshals, should
advance beyond the town and encamp on one of its sides. And the king of
France, with the Dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, would follow with
the main army ; that the Count de Blois and the Count d'Eu, with the rear
division, should lodge themselves on the other side of the town, and thus
surround the English.
This plan was executed : and the King set out from Ronombergues, at-
tended by his whole army. It was a beautiful sight to behold these banners,
pennons and helmets, glittering in the sun, and such numbers of men at
arms that the eye could not compass them. They seemed like a moving
forest, so upright did they hold their lances. Thus they marched in four
divisions towards Bergues, to enclose the English in that town.
About eight o'clock in the morning, an English herald entered the town,
who, by the courtesy of the lords of France, had passed through their army :
he waited on Sir Hugh Calveley in his hotel, and spoke so loud that every
one heard him. ' Herald, whence dost thou come?' 'My Lord,' replied
the herald, ' I come from the French army, where I have seen the finest
men at arms, and in such vast numbers that there is not at this day another
King who can shew the like.'
' And these fine men at arms which thou art speaking of,' saith Sir
Hugh, ' what number are they ?' 'By my faith, my Lord, they are full
twenty- six thousand men at arms : handsomer nor better armed were never
seen.'
' Ha, ha,' replied Sir Hugh, who was much provoked at the latter part of
this speech, ' thou art a fine fellow to come and mock us with this pompous
tale. I know well thou hast lied ; for many a time have I seen the armies
of France, but they never amounted to twenty-six thousand ; no, not even
to six thousand men at arms/
As he said this, the watch of the town who was at his post, sounded his
trumpet, for the van of the enemy was about passing near the walls — Sir
Hugh then, addressing the knights and squires present, said ; ' Come,
come, let us go and see these twenty-six thousand men at arms march by,
for our watch blows his horn !' They went on ftthe walls of the place and
leaning on them, observed the march of the van, which might have con-
sisted of about fifteen hundred lances, with the constable, the marshals, the
master of the cross-bows and the Lord de Courcy. Next came the Duke
of Brittany, the Earl of Flanders and the Count de St. Pol, who had under
his command about fifteen hundred lances more. Sir Hugh Calveley, who
thought he had seen the whole army, said ' Now see if I did not say "truth :
where are these twenty-six thousand men? Why if they be three thousand
menat arjns, they are ten thousand. Let us go to dinner, for I do not yet
see such a force as should oblige us to surrender the town. This herald
would frighten us well, if we were to believe him.'
The herald was much ashamed, but he said, ' My Lord, you have as yet
only seen the van guard. The King and his uncles are behind with the main
army, and there is besides a rear division, which consists of more than two
thousand lances. You will see the whole in four hours, if you remain here.'
Sir Hugh paid not any attention to him but returned to his house, saying
NEGLECTED GENEALOGY. 5
he had seen every thing, and seated himself at table. He had scarcely done
so, than the watch again blew his horn, and so loud as if he would burst it ;
Sir Hugh rose from table, saying he would see what was the cause of this,
and mounted the battlements. At this moment the King of France marched
by, attended by his uncles, the Duke Frederick, the Duke of Lorraine, the
Count of Savoy, the Dauphine of Auvergne, the Count de la Marche, and
their troops. In this battalion were full sixteen thousand lances. Sir
Hugh felt himself much disappointed, and said to the herald who was by
his side, ' I have been in the wrong to blame you, come, come, let us mount
our horses and save ourselves, for it will do us no good to remain here ; I
no longer know the state of France, I have never seen such numbers col-
lected together by three fourths as I now see and have seen in the van —
besides the rear division is still to come. Upon this Sir Hugh Calveley
left the walls and returned to his house. All the horses being ready saddled
and loaded, they mounted, and having ordered the gates to be opened which
lead to Bourbourg, they set off without any noise, carrying with them
all their pillage.
Had the French suspected this, they could easily have stopped them, but
they were ignorant of it for a long time, so that they were nearly arrived at
Bourbourg before they heard of it.
Sir Hugh Calveley halted in the plain to wait for his rear and baggage.
He was very melancholy and said to Sir Thomas Trivet and others who had
come to meet him ; ' By my faith, gentlemen, we have this time made a
most shameful expedition : never was so pitiful or wretched a one made
from England. You would have your wills, and placed your confidence in
the Bishop of Norwich, who wanted to fly before he had wings; now see the
honourable end you have brought it to. There is Bourbourg ] If you
choose it, retire thither ; but for my part I shall march to Gravelines and
Calais, because I find we are not of sufficient strength to cope with the King
of France.'
The English knights, conscious they had been to blame in several things,
replied : ' God help us ! we shall return to Bourbourg and wait the event,
such as God may please to ordain.' Sir Hugh on this left them, and they
threw themselves into Bourbourg."
None of the blame attending this misadventure fell on Sir Hugh, and he
retained to the time of his decease the government of Guernsey, and the
care of the royal castle and the park of Shotwick. Having acquired from
his estates in Cheshire, his various official appointments, and the fruits of
his predatory warfare, enormous wealth, he devoted a portion to the estab-
lishment of an hospital at Rome, and sanctified the end of his days by an
act of similar piety in his own country — the foundation of the college of
Bunbury in Cheshire — which appears to have been completed before the
decease of its founder, which event occurred on the feast of St. George in
1394. An armed effigy, reposing on one of the most sumptuous altar
tombs of which the county of Chester can boast, still remains in the chancel
of the college of Bunbury, marking the spot where were interred the mortal
remains of the warrior knight, the gallant Sir Hugh Calveley of Lea. Tra-
dition assigned to him for bride no less a personage than the Queen of Ar-
ragon, but recent researches have altogether refuted this popular error. In
all probability, he never married, and to a certainty, he left no issue. His
next heir was his grandnephew,
DAVID DE CALVELEY, eldest son of Sir Hugh Calveley, the younger, and
grandson of David, the second son of the first David Calvelegh of Lea.
6 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
He held the property for some years, but died without issue, temp. Henry IV.,
and was succeeded by his brother,
HUGH DE CALVELEY, Esq. of Lea, whose post mortem inquisition bears
date 11 Hen. VI. By Maud, his wife, dau. and heir of Sir Henry Hubeck
Knt, of Leicestershire, he left a son and heir,
SIR HUGH CALVELEY, Knt. of Lea, who married Margaret, dau. of Sir
John Done, Knt. of Utkinton, and left at his decease (Inq. p.m. 10 HEN.
VII.) a dau. Eliz. wife of John Eyton of Rhuabon, co. Denbigh, and a son
and heir, SIR HUGH CALVELEY, Knt. of Lea, whose wife was Christiana,
dau. and heir of Thomas Cottingham, and whose children, by her, were
four daus., Alice m. to Richard Clyve of Huxley, Jane m. to Sir John
Legh of Bagulegh, Dorothy m. to Robert Massey of Coddington, and
Eleanor, who d. unm., and one son,
SIR GEORGE CALVELEY of Lea, Knt. He m. Elizabeth, dau. of Sir
Piers Dutton of Hatton, Knt., and had besides a son and heir, SIR HUGH,
four other sons and six daus., viz. Peter and George, both d.s.p., John,
valet of Queen Mary, Anthony d. without lawful issue, Catharine wife of John
Beeston, Esq. of Beeston, Elizabeth wife of Richard Gerard of Crewood,
Eleanor, wife of John Davenport of Calveley, Christina wife of Richard
Hough of Leighton, Joan wife 1st of John Edwards of Chirk, co. Den-
bigh, and 2nd of Sir Ralph Leycester, Knt., and Dorothy wife 1st of Robert
Boswek, and 2ndly of Edward Aimer. The eldest son and heir,
SIR HUGH CALVELEY of Lea, knighted at Leith 1544, m. Eleanor dau.
and heiress of Ralph Tattershall of Bulkeley, and by her had, besides a dau.
Eleanor wife of John Dutton Esq. of Dutton, three sons I. Sir George
Calveley, Knt. of Lea, eldest son and heir, m. 1st, Margaret dau. of John
Moreton of Moreton, and 2ndly, Agnes dau. and heiress of Anthony Browne
of Wodhull, relict of Richard Chetwode, Esq. and by the latter only had
issue two sons, George and Hugh, both d. infants. He d. 5th August, 1585.
II. Hugh d. s.p. -, and III. HUGH. The youngest son and eventual heir to
his brother,
HUGH CALVELEY, Esq. of Lea, m. Mary dau. of Sir Ralph Leycester
of Toft, Knt. and had, besides three daus., Elizabeth, m. Edward Dutton,
Esq. of Dutton. Eleanor m. Henry, son of Sir Richard Lee of Lea, Knt.,
and Dorothy m. George Bostock of Holt, — a son,
SIR GEORGE CALVELEY of Lea, Knt. Sheriff of Cheshire, 1612, who
m. 1st Mary dau. of Sir Hugh Cholmondeley, Knt. of Cholmondeley, and
2nd a dau of Sir W. Jones — which lady m. 2ndly Judge Littleton. By his
first only, Sir George Calveley had issue, viz. Hugh, (Sir) his heir, Richard
and George both d. s, p., Mary and Dorothy both d. young, Elizabeth m.
Thomas Cotton, Esq. of Combermere, and Lettice m. Thomas Legh, D.D.
third son of Peter Legh of Lyme, Esq. Sir George d. 1 9th January, 1 6 1 9, and
was succeeded by his eldest son and heir,
SIR HUGH CALVELEY of Lea, knighted when sheriff of Cheshire in
1642. Hem. 1st, Lady Elizabeth dau. of Henry Earl of Huntingdon, and
2ndly, Mary dau. of Sir Gilbert Hoghton, Knt. of Hoghton Tower, co. Lan-
caster, and by the former only, had issue, a son and heir George Calveley,
born in 1635, d. young. Sir Hugh d. without surviving issue, 4 April,
1 648, and thus the male line of this ancient family ended. The estates were
divided between the families of his sisters, Elizabeth, wife of Thomas Cotton,
and Lettice wife of Thomas Legh, D.D. In the division of the estates, the
manor of Lea, with the lands north of the brook, passed to the Cottons,
those south of the brook to the Leghs of Lyme, The first of these shares
was sold by the late Sir Robert Salusbury Cotton, Bart,, to Mr. Joseph
White of London, and the others vested in Thomas Legh, Esq. of
NKGLKCTED GENEALOGY.
respecting tfje Hife mitt dfanrito of ^o!)it Ji»er, tljc
BY WILLIAM HILTON LONGSTAFFE, OF DARLINGTON.
THE biographies of the amiable and retiring author of Grongar Hill, have
hitherto been so imperfect, such mere sketches, that the writer deems it
but a justice to his ancestor, and a matter of some interest to the reading
public, those who feel that facts throwing a light on the lives of great men,
be they ever so small, should be placed on record, to give to the world all
the materials in his power which may prove of service to future writers.
And in the first place will be given a few notes relating to the poet's
ancestors. His contemporary relatives, his and their descendants, will ap-
pear at length at the conclusion of these articles : —
With regard to the origin of the Dyers from whom our author de-
scended, there seems to be conflicting opinions, not among the printed lives
of him, but among the family papers themselves. From the papers in the
hands of the Rev. Thomas Dyer, of Abbess-Roding, in the handwriting of
the poet's father, Robert Dyer, Esq. of Aberglasney, it is clear that the
last-named individual claimed descent from the Dyers of Somerset and
Devon, and has drawn their arms beside his name, viz. or, a chief indented
gules. Yet he is not uniform or steady in this statement, for in another
paper, similar in other respects to the others, he states them to be of South
Wales. These papers are numerous, agreeing tolerably, and systematically
arranged thus : —
" Non nobis nascimur.
Or, a chief indented gules quarterly with sable 3 goats passant argent
(the allusion to arms is in some copies omitted,) by the name of Dyer,
as in Guillim's Heraldry, are borne by Robert Dyer of Aberglasney, in
the county of Carmarthen, Gent, descended from the ancient family of
that name
in
/ Somersetshire,
J the counties of Somersett
j and Devon,
I South Wales.
His grandmother
was the
great granddaughter
daughter of the
daughter and only
child.*
of
Robert Ferrars, the bishop of S. David, who was burnt at Carmarthen in
the reign of Queen Mary, and his mother was descended
/ Sir William Thomas, formerly of Aberglasneyf
) the family of Sir Wm. Thomas, formerly of Aberglasney
He married
1 j Lhewellin Voythys, formerly of Aberglasney, Esq.
' the family of Lhewellin Voythys, of Aberglasney.
Catherine, daughter and coheir of John Cocks, Esq., of Comins, in the
county of Worcester, by Elizabeth, daughter and sole heir of Edmond
Bennet, of Mapleton, in the county of Hereford, Gent."
Cocks beareth " sable, a chevron between 3 attires of a stag fix't to the
scalp argent."
He states also that he got seals engraved for himself, wife, and son
Robert, with the arms of Dyer ; but as I have never seen or heard of
these seals being in existence I know not what arms he meant.
* A generation is 'evidently missed out here. W. H. L.
f " This is a copy y' I left with Mr. Thomas.
" It is remarkable that'the Dyers became again possessed of the estate of Aberglas-
ney purchased by'llobert Dyer (married to Miss Cocks as aforesaid) of Sir Rice Rudd1
Bart. — FRAN. DYER, his grandson."
NEGLECTED GENEALOGY/'
" Dyer indeed himself evidently leans to this origin, for in the Fleece
is the following remarjcable passage. (Book 3.)
One day arose
fVio Tirpavincy nrt«
When ALVA'S tyranny the weaving arts
Drove from the fertile vallies of the Scheld.
With speedy wing, and scatter'd course, they fled,
Like a community of bees, disturbed
By some relentless swain's rapacious hand ;
While good ELIZA, to the fugitives
Gave gracious welcome ; as wise ^Egypt erst
To troubled Nilus, whose nutritious flood
With annual gratitude enrich'd her meads.
Then, from fan* Antwerp, an industrious train
Crossed the smooth channel of our smiling seas ;
And hi the vales of Cantium, &c.
Narrating the different places of their settlement, he then goes on to
specify amongst the others,
that soft tract
Of Cambria, deep embay'd, Dimetian land,
By green hills fenc'd, by oceans murmur lulPd f
Nurse of the rustic bard, who now resounds
The fortunes of the fleece ; whose ancestors
Were fugitives from superstition's rage,
And erst, from Devon, thither brought the loom j
Where ivi'd walls of old KIDWELLY'S tow'rs,
Nodding, still on their gloomy brows project
Lancastria's arms, emboss'd in mouldering stone.
Which in the first rough notes of the poem, in my possession, is repre-
sented thus ; —
Driven by ye D. of Alva,
nor brought ye Fleece alone
But various artizans allur'd they came
With all their instruments of art, their wheels
And looms and drugs of many a beauteous stain
5 A pretious 1 ™ . , ,
* Inestimable I Frei&ht' $ See Gary, p. 70.
From the letter in the sequel it would appear that this descent from the
Dyers of Somerset and Devon was derived from one Francis Dyer ; but as
I think nothing of this descent, for both the Dyers of Wales and Somer-
setshire date in England anterior to the Duke of Alva, and no proved
descent from the latter race is given, I pass on to the poet's descent from
the Dyers of Wales, which I think there can be no doubt is the true one.
The Dyers of Cardiganshire and Pembrokeshire rank among the most
ancient lines of Wales, but the pedigrees given of them, show their ex-
tinction in the main branch in heiresses, and give not the descendants of
the cadets of the house. Their arms were " Gules, an eagle displayed
argent, beaked and crined or. And it must primarily be understood that
the poet uniformly used the coat " Gu. 3 eagles displayed argent," and his
brother Thomas's descendants bear the same. Upon the whole, this stock
seems the most likely to derive our poet from, but leaving conjectures, we
will now proceed to show his immediate ancestors.
NEGLECTED GENEALOGY. g
f The following extracts from the pleadings of the Duchy of Lancaster
(anterior to Elizabeth's time} doubtless belong to our family, though they
cast little lustre on it.
23 Hen. 8. Margery, late wife of William Davy, v. David Dyer, Mayor of
Kydwelly. — Charge of aiding and abetting escape of murderer. —
Kydwelly Lordship, Gower Lordship. — Wales.
24 Hen. 8. John Turner & ux. v. Charles Herbert, Howell Dyer, and
others. — Forcible entry and tortious possession of messuage,
lands and appurtenances, and false imprisonment. — Osbaston,
Monmouth Lordship. — Wales.
3 Edw. 6. James William & ux. v. Morres Dyer and others. — Tortious
possession of messuages, lands, and pasture, and detention of
title deeds. — Kydwelly. — Caermarthenshire.
Then will come conveniently the following letter from Rowland Hickes,
a relation of the family, which gives a fair account of the Dyers : —
Honoured Cousen, Sber, 1716.
According to yr request I have made what enquiry I could, and I send it
to yu if any thinge of this natur will bee searviable to yu I shall be redy to
searvice, yu will finde inclosed the names of the Aid" and principle Burgesses
recorded in the charter granted by King James the first, 1618, by which it
can not bee considared that yu are any wayes descended from Francis Dyer
yu mentioned to bee in the reigne of Queen Elizabeth, for since yr grand-
father was borne is above 122, who might be 22 or 23 when the charter
was had, his father was then bee before her reigne, and abo* the family it
can not bee denied but that they were very ancient in this towne and respon-
sible, when five of them was named in 24, especioly att that time when the
town was both populous and rich, but nothing to what it had bine in former
times, it is a common tradition that they, the Fishers, Collins, Rows, Ed-
wards, and others, were hever since the Conquest, but I rather thinke that
they came with Thomas and Morris de Londres, who got and built this
castle, as nowe it is (with stone), Morris Dyer was the great granfather of
Wm. Dyer. Henry Fisher was yr great grandfather, and John Fisher was
his brother, who was the fifth mayor by this charter. Hugh Dyer was yr
g* grandfather, Dd Dyer was John Dyer, my son in law's grandfather. I
supose all these Dyers died soon after, for there is noe mention of them
since, nor could bee except they had bine maiors, for wee have noe records
but the names of the mairs until Richard Payne was the ninth maior, since
wee have records that gives account of most materiall things that was acted,
this far of the Aldn
John Dyer, who is named amongst the principle Burgesses, was John
Dyer's grandfather by his mother, and David Dyer was Hugh Dyer yr
great granfs Brother, named by David Roger Dyer and was the 1 3th maior
there was a commission sent to Sr Gerard Bromley and Thomas Lowley,
Esq. to enquire to the state of the towne in the fifth year of King James,
wherein there r severall of the Dyers in that Jury of 24 men. I doubt this
is rather a trouble to yu than any satisfaction, and forbear any further
(yr grandfather was the 21st maior) with due respects to yu and all yrs, I
rest yr ever affectionat vnkle whilst
ROWLAND HICKES.
Ffor Mr. Robert Dyer att Aber-
glasney these to be left at the
Nag's head in Carmarthen.
10 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
(Inclosure)
by the charter of Kidwelly granted by
King James ye 1st, anno duo 1618.
First Mayor
Thomas Babmgton, Esq.
First Ald'men
John Howell, Morris Dyer, Henry Fisher, Master of Arts,
Hugh Dyer, David Dyer, John Aylward, William Gardener,
Griffith Bowen, John Fisher, David William, Griffith Row,
and David King.
First Bayliffs
William Gardener and Owen Bowen, Gent.
First principal Burgesses
Owen Bowen, John Dyer, David Dyer, John Phillipps, Morris
Fisher, David Mansell, Walter Rice, William Collinn, Henry
Jones, Thomas Walter, David Morton, and Morrice Rees.
First Chamberlain
Robert Joliffs. First Recorder, Henry Fleetwood.
To the above letter is appended the following note in Robert Dyer's writing —
Roger Dyer of Kidwelly. Bp. Ferrar.
Hugh Dyer, made alderman of Kid- dau. married Wms, Wm's
welly by charter of James I. daughter married Hen. Fisher, ma'r
Robert Dyer, 21 Maior of ye towne. of Arts, Vicar of Kidwelly.
Robert Dyer. 1st, Robert married Eleanor, that
Robert Dyer of Aberg?. Fisher's daughter.
Rob*. Dyer, 1st (son, I suppose, un- 2nd, Robert married Mary, dau. to
derstood) David Wm8, of Brinkarod.
3rd, Robert ma. Catherine, daughter
to John Cocks, &c.
and the following endorsement.
" Letter Mr. Hicks about ye family of ye Dyers in Kidwelly, in a bre
of ye 14 of ye same month he gives an acco't y't they came there with
Will'm de Londres ab't ye year 1093, and conquered these p'ts and built
ye Castle there with stone, and brought ye Welsh to subjection."
I have already (in the statements of Robert Dyer) introduced the poet's
ancestors by the marriages of his fathers. The most distinguished one is
undoubtedly the martyr, Bishop Ferrars, or Farrer, about whom I shall not
here make any remarks. He has been praised and vindicated by abler
hands,* and his exact relations seem hid in mystery. It admits of no doubt
* See Woods's Athen. Oxon. I. 580. Also Thoresby and Whittaker's histories of
Leeds, sub tit. Halifax and Wortley.
Some of the articles which he was put to answer in the reign of Edward VI. were to
the last degree frivolous, &c. ; viz. riding a Scottish pad with a bridle with white studs
and snaffle, white Scottish stirrups and white spurs ; wearing a hat instead of a cap ;
whistling to his child; laying the blame of the scarcity of herrings to the covetousness
of the fishers, who in time of plenty took so many that they destroyed the breeders ;
and lastly, wishing that at the alteration of the coin, whatever metal it was made of,
the penny should be in weight worth a penny of the same metal. Granger's Bios'
Hist. i. 198.
NKGLKCTBD GENEALOGY. 11
that he was intimately connected with the Farrers of Ewood, in the" West
Riding, but their pedigree begins a generation too late for our purpose.
The Dyers have quartered the arras, argent, six Horseshoes, three, two,
and one, sable, in right of their having the representation of the Bishop ;
the Farrers bear Or, on a bend engrailed sable, three horseshoes argent ;
but every antiquary will recollect the extreme variations in the Ferrars
coats.
With regard to the Bennetts I have their quarterings drawn in the poet's
own hand, with certain remarks upon them, I here give them entire.
1. Gules, a bezant between 3 demi-lions rampant, argent. " Bennets —
Bennet of Mapleton, Herefordshire, of ye Arlington family. BIJ Benn1
was of ye same family."
2. Argent, on a bend sinister sable, 3 pears or. " Perry s— -Pierry of
Nicholson, near Leominster, Herefordsh. — By the Pierrys some of my
old aunts were used to say we were descended from ye Mortimers by
a female, and y* of right a share of Wymerley(P) shd have come
to them.
3. Gules, a fess between 3 owls, or. " Webbs, of Gillirigham in Kent. . . .
Webbs, ye daugh. of Charles Webbs, ye son of John Webbs, who was
burnt in Q. Mary's days. She was an Heiress, and married Dr John
Bennet, who was to prince Henry — he lost the pelf in ye search
of ye Philosopher's stone."
4. Or, a fess between 3 lozenges azure.
5. 6 ermines, 3, 2, and 1.
6. Argent, a chevron gules between 3 estoiles sable.
Crest, on a wreath a demi-lion holding between his paws a mound.
J-a
In another shield he quarters the same arms, in conjunction with Cocks,
Ferrars, Thomas, and Ensor. As to the latter, the Ensor quartering came
only through his wife, so the coat must have been constructed for his son to
bear. The Thomas arms are very roughly drawn, but seem to have been a
plain cross, a sword in pale, point upwards, in the first quarter. It is very
evident, however, that Williams and Fisher should have been quartered also ;
and in a rough shield drawn by Robert Dyer, the poet's father, the names
Fisher and Williams are inserted in the two first quarters, but not the
bearings.
The above details are mere notes, but they may be explanatory of circum-
stances in the sequel, and the writer will feel obliged by communications
throwing light on the families mentioned above.
With regard to the Dyers themselves, the pedigree would appear to stand
thus : —
Bishop Robert Ferrars, Farrars,=p David Dyer, Mayor Howell Dyer, of
or Farrar, of S. Davids, burnt at I of Kidwelly, 23 Hen. Monmouth Lord-
Carmarthen, 22 Feb. 1555. 8. ship, 24 Hen. 8.
— Ferrars,=r= — Williams. Roger Dyer,=f= Morris Dyer, of Kidwelly
d. & heiress ) of Kidwelly. Lordship, 3 Edw. 6.
,-r- - - w imams, jioger JL»yer,=f=
s I of Kidwelly.
a b
NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.
— Wil- =
Hams,
J i — — I
=Henry John Hugh =p. . . .
Fisher, Fisher, Dyer,
David =
ap
= David =j
Dyer,
=. . . . Moris =
Dyer,
=....
dau. and
M. A. Alder- one of
Roger
Burgess
anal.
heiress.
Vicar man of the first
Dyer,
of Kyd-
derman
ofKyd- Kyd- Alder-
Burgess
welly,
ofKyd-
welly, welly, men of
ofKyd-
1618,
welly,
Alder- 1618, Kyd-
welly in
Grand-
1618.
man'of & 5th welly
1618,
father
that mayor under
& 13th
to John
place, of that King
1618. place, James's
Mayor
of the
Dyer,
by his
under charter.
same
mother,
King 1618.
place.
(Row-
James's
Charter
land
Hickes)
—
I -
Elinor
=P Robert S Rowland Hickes=i
= — Dyer=
= — Dyer — Dyer=
Fisher,
Dyer, calls the 3rd Ro-
dau. and
13th bert " Cousen,"
heiress.
Mayor of & signs " unkle "
Kidwelly calls John Dyer
his "son in law."
See his letter
ante.
f
'-.
1 i —
Robert=
=Mary Williams, d. of David Wil-
— Hickes ?— John Dyer. — Dyer=j
Dyer.
liams, of Brinkavord, by Anne
Brinkar,* descended from Lhew-
ellenVoytliys of Aberglasney, and
also from the family of Sir Wil-
liam Thomas, of the same place,
Gent.
Robert Dyer, of Aberglasney,=pCatherine Cocks, d. & coh. of John Cocks William Dyer
par. Langarthen, Gent, an I of Com ins, Worcesters. by Elizabeth, d.
attorney, dead before 1 720, & h. of Edmond Bennet, of Mapleton,
bought Aberglasney of Sir | Herefords. Gent. — Mentioned 1720 as
Rice Rudd, Baronet.
having an annuity of £300 out of Aber- ]
glasney estate.
Robert.
JOHN,
THE POET.
of whom more
Thomas,
hereafter.
Bennet.
Richard Dyer, Esq. was living on an estate called Abersannar, Carmar-
thenshire, cotemporaneously with the poet, and I have a sketch of an ancient
cross on that estate drawn by the latter. It is probable, therefore, he was
of the same family. Vide Archaeological Journal, iii. 357.
In my next article I shall speak of Dyer himself.
* This is on the authority of another note in the handwriting of Robert Dyer, which
agrees in other respects with what has been given before, save that he makes Robert
the first, the son of John Edward Dyer, the son of Edward Dyer, an improbable state-
ment ; indeed David Roger's name shows that the true homo prepositus of the family
was a Roger Dyer. There was an Edward Dyer among the cadets of the Somersetshire
house, which circumstance perhaps induced the adoption of this unproved pedigree,
but Hicks in his letter (and he must have been well acquainted with all the Kidwelly
families) is very explicit as to the Welsh origin.
13
MARSHAL GROUCHY.
GROUCHY, one of the fast-expiring1 remnants of the Empire, whose death
was lately announced, though by no means among the first of French
generals, played too important a part in the latter days of the great
revolutionary war, to be excluded from a passing notice ; his mysterious
conduct contributed more perhaps than any other cause to Napoleon's
fall.
The late marshal, the offspring of a noble family, was born at Paris,
on the 23rd of October, 1766, and his birth qualifying him for rapid
advancement under the ancient regime, he in his fifteenth year entered the
artillery, and ere his nineteenth was a captain in the household brigade
of the king. When the Revolution broke out, however, he embraced its
principles with zeal, and quickly attained the^ command of a regiment
of dragoons, with which he took part in the campaign of 1792. For
his services on this occasion he, towards the end of that year, received
the command of the cavalry of the army of the Alps, and contributed
to the conquest of Savoy. Thence he was transferred to La Vendee on
the outbreak of its celebrated insurrection, and experienced better for-
tune than most of the French officers who there encountered the rustic
insurgents. Charette, their leader, was mainly prevented by his exertions
from taking Nantes, and in almost every encounter with the rebels
Grouchy came off with equal success, At Sorrinceres in 1793, he es-
pecially distinguished himself, leaping from his horse on the verge of a
morass and passing through with his men when his opponents deemed
their position unassailable, and routing them with disastrous loss. In
the following year, however, the decree of the Convention excluding
noble officers from the army, deprived him of his command, and he
deemed it expedient to avoid the danger which then menaced all mem-
bers of the aristocracy, by throwing himself as a private into the Na-
tional Guards. But eight months saw him restored, and with the
rank of a general of division, he returned to La Vendee.
The expedition to Quiberon Bay, first introduced him to the notice of
the English. By a rapid march across the insurgent territory, he unexpec-
tedly placed himself at Hoche's disposal, and then essentially contributed
to the issue of that sanguinary struggle. When the great republican
general was appointed to the command of what was termed the Army
of the Ocean, destined, it was supposed, for the invasion of England,
Grouchy in consequence received the appointment of one of its lieuten-
ants ; but events occurred to alter the original intention of the directory,
and Grouchy returned to the scene of his former career in La Vendee,
while Hoche repaired to Ireland. He was, however, quickly summoned
back, and hastily embarking, despatched to Bantry Bay. But Hoche had
been prevented by a storm from reaching it, and the expedition consequently
failed. Grouchy landed in Ireland, but his hesitation, as at Waterloo,
averted our danger : he quickly re-embarked, and returning to
Brest, was effectually employed in putting down Charette and Stofflet.
Impatient of this service, he solicited a command in Napoleon's projected
expedition to Egypt ; and Desaix being considered to have superior
claims, the refusal which followed is supposed to have disinclined him to
the Emperor's cause. While Bonaparte was absent in Egypt, Grouchy
14 MARSHAL GROUCHY.
repaired to Italy, and having been entrusted with a secret mission by the
directory, so effectually performed his part, that when Joubert came to
assail the impregnable Sardinian forces, they surrendered without a blow.
Grouchy, on the abdication of the king, received the command of the
country in reward, and he left the reputation of having governed it with
equity. When Moreau was subsequently appointed to restrain the
career of Suwarrow, Grouchy was appointed one of his lieutenants, and took
part in the memorable campaign of Piedmont, where twenty-five thou-
sand French troops were so ably manoeuvred, that for six weeks they
baffled all the efforts of eighty thousand Austro -Russians. When by an
unexpected movement part of them at last passed the enemy's flank, the
battle of Novi followed j but the French, it is well known, were defeated,
on that occasion : Grouchy, severely wounded, fell into the hands of the
Russians. The Grand-Duke Constantine received him with distinction j
placed his purse, surgeon, and domestics at the prisoner's disposal, and
after a year's captivity, succeeded in obtaining his exchange for that of
the English general Dow. A division in the army of reserve was imme-
diately assigned him ; but he had already established intimate relations
with Moreau, and being entrusted with the command of eighteen thou-
sand men, took a distinguished share in the memorable campaign of
Hohenlinden. Ney, however, with Richepanse and Decaen, after Moreau,
monopolized the glories of that day, and Grouchy was despatched to keep
in check the Archduke John, which he so effectually managed that when
the other columns of the French subsequently united, the Austrians were
overwhelmed, and fifteen thousand prisoners, with one hundred guns, fell
into the hands of the enemy.
Peace followed, and Grouchy was placed on the reduced establishment,
but the turbulent ambition of Napoleon again summoned him and every
other Frenchman to arms. A grudge, however, seerns to have existed
between him and the emperor j but still, though unpromoted to what he
deemed his due rank, Grouchy took a brilliant part in the campaign of
Jena, and fell so unexpectedly on the Prince of Hohenloe, that sixteen
thousand men, with sixty-four pieces of artillery, were compelled to lay
down their arms. At the battle of Lubeck which followed, his troops
were again successful ; the cavalry under his command defeating Blucher,
and the town being shortly afterwards surrendered. In the terrible action
of Friedland his division suffered dreadfully, only twelve hundred out of
four thousand horse being left unwounded on the plain. His bravery on
this occasion, when with cavalry alone he opposed the enemy till the
infantry came up, contributed with the accidental absence of Murat to
secure him the command of that force at the battle of Eylau, and his
services were warmly acknowledged by Napoleon, though he still re-
mained attached to Moreau.
The peace of Tilsit having terminated this campaign, Grouchy was
despatched to Spain, and was governor of Madrid when the sanguinary
insurrection broke out. His conduct on this occasion has been severely
arraigned, but his friends ullege that he only executed the orders of
Murat. He even disapproved, it is added, of the Peninsular invasion,
and was in consequence recalled and despatched to Italy, whither Mac-
donald had previously been sent for similar sentiments. Grouchy was
thus enabled to distinguish himself in the passage of the Izonso : but
on the recurrence of hostilities with Austria he soon passed into Ger-
many, and bore a conspicuous share in the decisive conflict of Wagram.
MARSHAL GROUCHY. 15
Macdonald, who accompanied him, still more essentially contributed to
that victory. His terrible advance on that day is one of the most me-
morable deeds in military annals, and both consequently were re-installed
in the imperial favour. But Grouchy, on the plea that civic honours
were inconsistent with a soldier's duties, refused to become a member of
Napoleon's senate.
On the projected expedition to Russia, he received the command of
one of the three corps into which the French cavalry was divided, and
was the first Frenchman who crossed the Boristhenes. Napoleon was
still twenty leagues distant, and Grouchy was thus enabled to come first
into contact with the Russians at Krasnoe. He routed, and compelled
them to fall back upon Smolensk, where Napoleon next day defeated
them decisively. The terrific battle of Moscow followed, and the ca-
valry under Grouchy, by turning a Russian redoubt, ultimately put an
end to the slaughter of the day. With his son, Grouchy was severely
wounded ; and he was still suffering at Moscow when Napoleon com-
menced his memorable retreat. But necessity compelled him to take
the field, and when a fearful frost struck down almost all the horses of
the army in a night, he received the command of the "sacred squadron''
formed to secure the personal safety of the emperor. By the exertions
of this devoted band, still more than of its leader, Napoleon was enabled
to escape the fate of Charles XII. after the battle of Pultawa ; and the
terrible passage of the Berezino at last interposed shelter between him
and his fierce pursuers. In the campaign of 1813, Grouchy took no
part. Having been refused a division of infantry, he retired discontented
to Calvados ; but after the battle of Leipsic he complied with the im-
perial commands and again placed himself at the head of the horse.
He was too feeble to restrain the enemy. The splendid cavalry of France
was no more, and all the efforts of Grouchy consequently failed to avert
the passage of the Rhine. Yet they were so great, that Napoleon at
last bestowed on him the long-coveted marshal's baton. But the
emperor's power and his honours now alike were passing ; and 1815 saw
Grouchy in the service of the Bourbons. The injudicious conduct of
the restored government, however, detached him and many others from
its cause; and having been superseded in the command of the favourite
chasseurs by the Duke de Berri, he again joined Napoleon on returning
from Elba. He was entrusted with the duty of counteracting the Duke
D'Angouleme, and in a few days so succeeded as to compel him to capi-
tulate ; but the terms displeased Napoleon, who designed to make the
duke prisoner and exchange him for Maria Louisa, then detained by her
father in Italy. Grouchy's conduct was considered so sinister that Cor-
binau, a devoted adherent of the emperor, was detached as aid-de-camp
to watch him. But Napoleon could not then stand on trifles nor afford
to lose the services of so important an arm. Grouchy accordingly was
continued in command ; and now the ambiguous part of his conduct
commences. The campaign of 1815 opened with unexpected success
on the part of Napoleon. The battle of Fleurus, though indecisive,
was brilliant ; and the attitude assumed by the French was exceedingly
menacing. On the 17th June, Grouchy was despatched with thirty-four
thousand men and a hundred guns to pursue or hold in check the Prus-
sians ; and during the whole of the 18th remained at Wavres. The
murderous conflict of Waterloo was waging in the interval; and
Grouchy, though but four leagues distant, rested inactive. He distinctly
heard the guns ; but the positive orders of the emperor, it is alleged on
16 MARSHAL GROUCHY.
the one hand, fixed him to the spot, while, on the other, it is asserted
that he was acting in collusion with the enemy; £20,000 have been men-
tioned as the bribe ; but the friends of the marshal reply that till three
o'clock in the afternoon the victory on the part of the French was se-
cure. At that hour, however, two Prussian corps under Bulow, which
Grouchy had permitted to escape, suddenly cleared the defile of St. Lam-
bert/and unexpectedly assailing the French, turned the fortune of the day.
The issue is known: but Grouchy in his "Observations on the cam-
paign of 1315," published at Philadelphia, states that he was ignorant
of Napoleon's disastrous overthrow till next day, and the course he then
adopted contributes, with his subsequent banishment, to render his con-
duct more inexplicable. Rallying the remains of the imperial army at
Laon, he proclaimed Napoleon II Emperor, and proposed to unite with
Soult in a vigorous effort for the preservation of French indepen-
dence. From Soult, however, he received information that ill-health
and Napoleon's abdication prevented him from longer acting either as
the emperor's major-general or commander of Paris ; and the Provisional
Government, immediately on Soult's resignation, appointed Grouchy to
the command of all the corps of the grand army remaining. On re-
ceiving this intelligence, Grouchy set out for Paris, resolving to approach
by the left bank of the Oise j but the allies occupied the right bank and
the intercommuning bridges in such force that he was unable to proceed
farther than the forest of Compiegne. Finding the enemy ranged
strongly in possession of the town, he resolved to draw up his force be-
hind the wood, to cover if possible the route to the capital. A fresh
order from the Provisional Government, however, to repair by forced
marches to Paris, induced him to abandon this design; and on his ar-
rival there he found Davoust invested with the chief command. The
latter, according to Grouchy, informed him that it was all over with the
imperial cause, and that nothing remained but to mount the white cock-
ade of the Bourbons.
If Grouchy is to be credited, he vehemently opposed this design, and
repaired to Fouch£ to remonstrate ; but all he obtained from the un-
scrupulous minister of police was a recommendation to go and offer
terms to the allies. From this, the marshal says, he indignantly re-
volted. He proceeded, instead, to the council then sitting at Villette,
and advised them either to assail the English or the Prussians ;
offering his services as a private soldier, if he was not permitted to com-
mand. But he was either viewed with distrust, or the advice was over-
ruled. His colleagues pronounced it impracticable ; and in the ordinance
of the 24th July, which followed, Grouchy's name was amongst the list
of those who were exiled from France.
From this period, he lived in retirement ; at first in the United States
of America, whither he withdrew on his banishment, and latterly at St.
Etienne, where he died. In 1831 he was placed on the list of Marshals
by King Louis Philippe. In a memoir of hkn published a few years ago
when his conduct was vehemently impeached, he is represented to have
been during twenty-three years intrusted with important commands, to
have been present in twelve great battles and sixty minor actions, to
have received nineteen wounds, and after thirty-five years of active ser-
vice to have found himself of poorer fortune than he received at his
birth. Such considerations are affecting j but there is a doubt over-
hanging his memory and outweighing all.
17
CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.
No. XL — THE TRIAL OF EARL FERRERS FOR MURDER.
IN the whole annals of our criminal jurisprudence no trial perhaps
has excited more lasting interest, and is more generally known, than
that of the unfortunate Lawrence Shirley, fourth Earl Ferrers. We
say unfortunate, because there seems little doubt, at the present day, that
the noble offender committed the deed whilst in a state of insanity. In-
deed, the very crime itself, and the mode of its accomplishment could
have scarcely been other than the work of a madman. The evidence
adduced on the part of his lordship, would certainly now have established
a case of lunacy sufficient to have saved the murderer from the extreme
penalty of the law. The rejection of his lordship's plea of insanity may,
even at the time, have been caused by his examining the witnesses him-
self with so much apparent sense and skill, and by his own evident dis-
inclination to rely on such a defence. The excitement caused by the
trial, and execution of Earl Ferrers, is to be easily accounted for. The
almost unparalleled sight of a peer of this realm brought to the bar of
justice, and publicly put to death on other than political grounds, made
a deep arid lasting impression ; and, though we may quarrel with the
verdict, we cannot but admire the stern rectitude of a government which,
once persuaded of the sanity of the culprit, would allow no consideration
of rank or station to intervene in the vindication of the law. George II,
when applied to, to alter the punishment from hanging to beheading,
is reported to have said " No, he has done the deed of the bad man, and he
shall die the death of the bad man." The Earl's fate may be truly re-
garded as an example of the impartial majesty of the English law. But
to proceed to Lord Ferrers' personal history.
Lawrence Shirley, fourth Earl Ferrers, the subject of this trial, was
the grandson of Robert the first Earl, through his fourth sou Lawrence,
who married Anne, fourth daughter of Sir Walter Clarges, baronet, and
whose three eldest sons, though he did not succeed to the title himself,
were successively fourth, fifth, and sixth Earls Ferrers. The family of
Shirley, Lords Ferrers, is one of highantiquity and honour, dating its emi-
nence back to the time of the Normans. The first Earl Ferrers had, while
Sir Robert Shirley, and prior to the creation of his Earldom, become Lord
Ferrers, of Chartley, Bourchier, and Louvaine j King Charles II. having
terminated the abeyance of those baronies in his favour, as one of the de
scendants of the famous Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. His grandson,
the unhappy Lord Ferrers of the trial, was born in August, 1720 ; he
married the 16th Sept. 1752, Mary, youngest daughter of Amos Mere-
dith, Esq., son and heir of Sir William Meredith, baronet, of Henbury j
but his lordship's irrational and cruel usage of this lady, who was re-
markable for her mild disposition, obliged her to apply to parliament for
redress ; and accordingly, an act was passed by which they were sepa-
rated. She had no issue by the Earl, and after his death, she was again
VOL. IV. NO. XV; C
18 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
married to Lord Frederick Campbell, brother to John, fourth Duke of
Argyll.
The trial of Lord Ferrers took place in Westminster Hall; it com-
menced on the 16th April, 1760, and lasted three days ; the Lord Keeper,
Lord Henley, acting as Lord High Steward.
After the usual preliminary formalities, the Earl was brought to the
bar by the deputy governor of the Tower, having the axe carried before
him by the gentleman gaoler, who stood with it on the left hand of the
prisoner, with the edge turned from him. The prisoner, when he ap-
proached the bar, made three reverences, and then fell upon his knees
at the bar.
L. H. S, Your lordship may rise. '
The prisoner rose up, and bowed to his Grace the Lord High Steward,
and to the House of Peers 3 the compliment was returned him by his
Grace and the Lords.
Proclamation having been made again for silence, the Lord High
Steward spoke to the prisoner as follows : —
Lawrence Earl Ferrers 3 you are brought to this bar to receive
your trial upon a charge of the murder of John Johnson ; an accusa-
tion, with respect to the crime, and the persons who make it (the grand
jury of the county of Leicester, the place of your lordship's residence),
of the most solemn and serious nature.
Yet my lord, you may consider it but as an accusation 5 for the
greatest or meanest subject of this kingdom (such is the tenderness of
our law) cannot be convicted capitally, but by a charge made by twelve
good and lawful men, and a verdict found by the same number of
his equals at the least.
My lord, in this period of the proceedings, while your lordship stands
only as accused, I touch but gently on the offence charged upon your
lordship ; yet, for your own sake, it behoves me strongly to mark the
nature of the judicature before which you now appear.
It is a happiness resulting from your lordship's birth and the constitu-
tion of this country, that your lordship is now to be tried by your peers
in full parliament: What greater consolation can be suggested to
a person in your unhappy circumstances, than to be reminded, that you
are to be tried by a set of judges, whose sagacity and penetration
no material circumstances in evidence can escape, and whose justice
nothing can influence or pervert ?
This consideration, if your lordship is conscious of innocence, must
free your mind from any perturbations that the solemnity of' such
a trial might excite ; it will render the charge, heavy as it is, unembar-
rassing, and leave your lordship firm and composed, to avail yourself of
every mode of defence, that the most equal and humane laws admit of.
Your lordship, pursuant to the course of this judicature, hath been
furnished with a copy of the indictment, and hath had your own counsel
assigned ; you are therefore enabled to make such defence as is most
for your benefit and advantage ; if your lordship shall put yourself
on trial, you must be assured to meet with nothing but justice, candour,
and impartiality.
Before 1 conclude, I am, by command of the House, to acquaint your
lordship, and all other persons who have occasion to speak to the Court,
during the trial, that they are to address themselves to the Lords
in general, and not to any lord in particular.
THE ARISTOCRACY. 19
Lawrence Earl Ferrers, your lordship will do well to give attention,
while you are arraigned on your indictment.
Here Earl Ferrers was arraigned, in the form of the indictment, against
him, by the Clerk of the Crown in the King's-bench.
The case for the crown was most ably stated by the Attorney General,
Charles Pratt, afterwards Lord Camden. Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas, and Lord Chancellor. His speech, which is as follows, has been
regarded as a model for an address on the part of the prosecution.
Mr. Attorney General. " May it please your lordships, it becomes" my
duty to open to your lordships the facts and circumstances of this
case, out of which your lordships are to collect and find the crime that
is charged in this indictment.
The noble prisoner stands here arraigned before your lordships for
that odious offence, malicious and deliberate murder. There cannot be
a crime in human society that deserves more to be punished, or more
strictly to be enquired after; and therefore it is, that his Majesty,
the great executive hand of justice in this kingdom, has promoted this
inquiry, whereby all men may see, that in the case of murder his
Majesty makes no difference between the greatest and meanest of his
subjects.
The prisoner has a right, from his quality, to the privilege of being
tried before this noble tribunal j if he is innocent, he has the greatest
reason to be comforted, that your lordships are his judges • for that
nobleness and humanity, which prompt you naturally to incline towards
mercy, will strongly exert themselves in the protection of innocence.
But, on the other hand, if the prisoner is really guilty of the charge, his
case is truly deplorable -, because your minds cannot be deceived by the
false colouring of rhetoric, nor your zeal for justice perverted by any
unmanly compassion.
This impartial disposition in your lordships call upon the prosecutors
to observe a conduct worthy of this noble assembly ; not to enlarge or
aggravate any part, or advance a step beyond their instructions ; but
barely to state the naked facts, in order that, by that means, your lord-
ships may be enabled the better to attend to the witnesses when they are
called, to examine and cross-examine, and sift out the truth with more
accuracy.
My lords, as I never thought it my duty in any case to attempt at
eloquence, where a prisoner stood upon trial for his life ; much less shall
I think myself justified in doing it before your lordships -} give me leave
therefore to proceed to a narration of the facts.
My lords, the deceased person, Mr. Johnson, I find to have been
employed by the Ferrers family almost during the whole course of his
life : he was taken into their service in his youth, and continued in it
unfortunately to the time' of his death.
At the time a bill was passed by your lordships, about two years ago,
to separate Lord Ferrers from his lady, Mr. Johnson was appointed
receiver of his lordship's estates. At that time his lordship seems
to have entertained a good opinion of him, because I am told he was
appointed receiver at his lordship's own nomination ; but, very soon
after he became invested with this trust, when the noble lord found there
was no possible method, by any temptation whatever, to prevail on Mr.
Johnson to break that trust, his lordship's mind grew to be alienated
towards him, and his former friendship was converted into hatred.
c 2
£0 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
The first instance of his lordship's malice, that will be produced, will
be his giving him notice to quit a beneficial i'arm that Mr. Johnson had
obtained a promise of from the Earl, or his relations, before he was
appointed receiver j but when it appeared that the trustees had made
good the promise, and had granted him a lease, my lord was obliged to
desist from that attempt.
When he found it was impossible to remove him from the farm, his
resentment against Mr. Johnson increased, and he took at last a deter-
mined resolution within himself to commit the horrid fact for which he
now stands arraigned.
My lords, I find several causes assigned by the prisoner for this indig-
nation expressed against the deceased; he charged him with having
colluded secretly with his adversaries, with being in the interest of those
he was pleased to call his enemies, and instrumental in procuring the Act
of Parliament : whether these charges were justly founded or not, is totally
immaterial ; such as they were, he had conceived them. His lordship,
who best knew the malice of his own heart, has confessed that he
harboured these suspicions.
Another thing h« suspected was, that, in confederacy with Mr. Burslem
and Mr. Curzon, he agreed to disappoint his lordship, in regard to
a certain contract for coal mines. These notions, though void of truth,
had so poisoned his lordship's mind, that he was determined at last to
gratify his revenge by murder.
This determination being once settled and fixed in his mind, your
lordships will see, with what art and deliberation it was pursued : not-
withstanding these seeming causes of disgust, he dissembled all appear-
ance of ill-will or resentment ; his countenance towards the deceased for
some months seemed greatly to be changed, and his behaviour was
affable and good-humoured.
The poor man, deluded with these appearances, was brought to believe
he was in no danger, and that he might safely trust himself alone with
his lordship.
Matters being thus prepared, on Sunday, the 13th January, the pri-
soner made an appointment to Mr. Johnson to come to him on the
Friday following.
His lordship, though the appointment was five or six days before,
remembered it perfectly; nay, he remembered the very hour he was to
come, and took his measures accordingly ; for your lordships will find,
that in order to clear the house, Mrs. Cliffordi a woman who lives with
his lordship, and four children, were directed by him, at three o'clock
precisely, to absent themselves 5 they were ordered to walk out to Mrs.
Clifford's father, about two miles from my lord's house, and not to
return till five, or half an hour after five.
The two men-servants likewise, the only servants of that sex then
residing with them, were contrived to be sent out of the way; so that
when Mr. Johnson repaired to Stanton, my lord's house, at three
o'clock, there was no person in the house, except his lordship, and three
maid-servants.
Mr. Johnson, when he came to the house, rapt at the door, and was
received by his lordship, and directed to wait some time in the still
room ; then his lordship ordered him into the parlour, where they both
entered together, and the door was immediately locked on the inside.
THE ARISTOCRACY. 21
What passed in that interval, between the time of Mr. Johnson's first
going in, and the time of his being shot, can only be now known to your
lordships by the noble Earl's confession, which has been very ample
indeed upon the present occasion.
After Mr. Johnson had been there the best part of an hour, one of the
maids in the kitchen, hearing some high words in the parlour, went
to the door to see if she could discover what was doing j she listened,
and heard my lord, as she was at the kitchen door, say, down upon your
knees j your time is come j you must die; and presently after heard a
pistol go off; upon that, she removed from the kitchen, and retired
to another part of the house j for she did not care to venture into
his lordship's presence.
Though it appeared, afterwards, that Mr. Johnson had then received
that wound of which he died, he did not then immediately drop ; he
arose, and was able to walk.
Just then, my Lord Ferrers, as he confessed afterwards, felt a few
momentary touches of compassion : he permitted Mr. Johnson to be led
up stairs to bed, till better assistance could be called ; he suffered
a surgeon to be sent for, nay, the very surgeon that Mr. Johnson himself
had desired ; and Mr. Johnson's children, by his lordship's order, were
acquainted with the accident, and sent for to see him.
Mr. Johnson's daughter was the first person that came ; she met the
noble lord, and the first greeting she had from him was, that he had shot
her father ; and that he had done it on purpose, and deliberately. Mrs.
Clifford, who had been apprized of this accident by the servants, came
not long after ; and, in an hour and a half, or two hours, Mr. Kirkland,
the surgeon, who was from home when the servant was dispatched, and
at a neighbouring village, hastened with the best expedition he could
make, to Stanton. When he came to Stanton he met my lord in the
passage.
Here your lordship will observe, that the noble lord's conduct and
behaviour, from this time to the time that Mr. Johnson was removed to
his own house, seemed all along calculated for his escape ; and that the
only anxiety he expressed was the dread of being seized, and brought to
punishment in case Mr. Johnson should die.
Upon Mr. Kirkland's first appearance, my lord had told him, that
he had shot Mr. Johnson, and that he had done it coolly ; he desired he
might -not be seized till it was known with certainty whether Mr. Johnson
would die or not ; and threatened, that if any person attempted to seize
him, he would shoot them. Mr. Kirkland told him, he would take care
nobody should meddle with him.
Mr. Kirkland was then brought up to Mr. Johnson, who was upon
the bed ; the surgeon examined the wound, and found that the ball had
penetrated a little below the ribs on the left side ; he took an instrument
in his hand, called a director, in order to probe the wound : here my
lord interrupted him, and said, You need not be at that trouble ; pass
your instrument downwards ; I, when I shot off the pistol, directed it
that way ; and Mr. Kirkland found this, upon examination, to be true;
the ball had not passed through the body, but remained lodged in the
cavities of the abdomen.
When my lord found that the ball was in the body, he grew uneasy ;
for he was apprehensive that the ball, if it remained there, might prove
22 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
fatal ; he asked Mr. Kirkland, if it could be extracted j Mr. Kirkland
told him, from what he observed, it would be impracticable to extract
the ball : but to give him better hopes he told him, that many persons
had lived a long while after they had been shot, though the ball had
remained within them.
Presently after this, the surgeon went down stairs to prepare a fomen-
tation, and soon after returned : when he came back into the room, Mr.
Johnson complained of the strangury. This alarmed his lordship again :
he then asked Mr. Kirkland, what would be the consequence, if the
bladder or kidneys were hurt? Mr. Kirkland having laid down his
rule of conduct, wherein his prudence deserves to be commended,
answered, that though the bladder should be wounded, or the kidneys
hurt, there had been many cures performed upon such like wounds.
This made his lordship tolerably easy : he then began to be in better
spirits, which, I am sorry to say, at that time were somewhat heightened
with liquor : for, although he was cool and fresh when he did the fact,
yet the moment it was done, he began to drink, and continued drinking,
at times, till twelve o'clock at night : this liquor, however, only contri-
buted to raise his spirits, without disordering his understanding j for he
appeared to be complete master 0f himself the whole day.
After Mr. Kirkland had given him so much encouragement, they toge-
ther went down to the still room ; and now his lordship verily believing
that Mr. Johnson would recover, he grew less cautious in avowing the
deliberation with which he tlid the fact, and declaring all the circum-
stances that attended it.
And here, because I will not wrong the noble lord, by adding a single
letter to my brief, your lordships shall hear his confession, from thence,
in his own words.
" Kirkland, says he, I believe Johnson is more frightened than hurt ;
my intention was to have shot him dead ; but, finding that he did not
fall at the first shot, I intended to have shot him again, but the pain he
complained of made me forbear j there nature did take place, in opposi-
tion to the resolution I had formed. 1 desire you will take care of him j
for it would be cruel not to give him ease, now I have spared his life.
" When you speak of this afterwards, do not say (though I desire he
may be eased of his pain) that I repented of what I have done : I am not
sorry for it j it was not done without consideration ; I own it was pre-
meditated j I had, some time before, charged a pistol for the purpose,
being determined to kill him, for he is a villain, and deserves death ; but
as he is not dead, I desire you will not suffer my being seized ; for, if he
dies, I will go and surrender myself to the House of Lords • I have
enough to justify the action ; they will not excuse me, but it will satisfy
my own conscience : but be sure you don't go in the morning without
letting me see you, that I may know if he is likely to recover or not ; I
will get up at any time ; at four o'clock in the morning.
" To this very strange and horrid declaration Mr. Kirkland answered,
by promising his lordship, that he would certainly give him the first
intelligence touching Mr. Johnson's condition; and, as it was proper, for
very prudent reasons, as well with respect to himself as Mr. Johnson, to
dissemble with his lordship, he proceeded further, and told him, that he
would give a favourable account of this matter. The noble lord then
asked him, what he would say if he was called upon ; he told him he
would say, that though Johnson was shot, that he was in a fair way
THE ARISTOCRACY. 23
of recovery. His lordship asked Mr. Kirkland, if he would make oath
of that ? He said, yes.
" Mr. Kirkland then went to see Mr. Johnson again, and found him
better j they then went to supper, and, during the time they were at sup-
per, his lordship mentioned several other particulars : he said, he was
astonished, that the bullet should remain in his body; for, says he,
I have made a trial with^this pistol, and it pierced through a board
an inch and a half thick ; I am astonished it did not pass through
his body ; I took good aim, and I held the pistol in this manner ;
and then he shewed Mr. Kirkland the manner of his holding the pistol."
He also declared the grounds, and motives for his killing Johnson 3
that he had been a villain 5 that he was in the interest of his enemies j
that he had joined with those who had injured him, and taken away his
estate, by an act of parliament j that he had colluded with Mr. Curzon
and Mr. Burslem, with respect to the coal contract.
Another thing he mentioned with respect to the farm 5 says he, " I have
long wanted to drive Johnson out of the farm j if he recovers, he will
go back to Cheshire, where he came from." Mr, Kirkland said, no doubt
but this accident would drive him home again.
After they had supped, Mrs. Clifford came into the room, and she pro-
posed, that Mr. Johnson should be removed to the Lount, which is
the name of Mr. Johnson's house, and lies about a mile from Stanton j
his lordship refused to consent to that, not because he thought Mr.
Johnson might be hurt by the removal, but, to use his own words,
because he would have him under his own roof, to plague the villain.
When the supper was over, they returned back to Mr. Johnson, who
was then under the greatest uneasiness ; he was restless, and the com-
plaint of strangury increased : then my lord was alarmed again $ he
enquired of the surgeon what would be the consequence, in case the
guts were shot through ? Mr. Kirkland gave him a favourable answer,
that revived his spirits ; he went out of the room, and invited Mr. Kirk-
land to take a bottle of port j they then drank together, and during that
time, the same, or the like expressions were repeated. I will not trouble
your lordships with them again j but he all along declared, he did not do
it hastily, but coolly and deliberately : that his intention was to have
killed him : and that the reason why he did it at the time was, because
he would not sign a paper of recantation, acknowledging all the inju-
ries he had done his lordship.
They then again returned to Mr. Johnson, after they had drank out
the bottle : whether the liquor was prevalent or not, 1 don't know j your
lordships will observe what followed : his behaviour to the poor man,
though he lay there under the surgeon's hands, was totally changed, and
his resentment grew outrageous ; my lord again attacked him upon the
same charge as before, compelled him to acknowledge before all the
company (of which his daughter was one) that he was a villain j nay,
he was about to drag him out of bed upon the floor, which would hardly
have been prevented, if Mr. Johnson, who was tutored by a wink from
Mr. Kirkland, had not said, I do confess I am a villain : my lord at last
went to bed j but, before he departed, he said with great earnestness to
Mr. Kirkland, may I rely upon you ? Are you sure there is no danger ?
May I go to bed in safety ? Mr. Kirkland said, yes, your lordship may.
When his lordship was gone, poor Johnson begged to be removed to his
own house. Mr, Kirkland wished it as much ; for, besides that he could
24 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
not have that free access to his patient that was necessary, if he was to
remain there, he thought himself in the utmost peril. My lord had
confessed too much, and Mr. Kirkland too little ; so that if Mr. John-
son had died there, no man in Mr. Kirkland's situation would have
wished to have been alone with his lordship, considering the dangerous
conversation that had passed between them.
Mr. Kirkland, therefore, immediately went to the Lount, procured six
or seven armed men, and came back by two o'clock in the morning.
They removed Mr. Johnson, put him into a great chair, and wrapped
him up in blankets, and so conveyed him home. Towards morning
the poor man's symptoms grew worse, and Mr. Kirkland then went
away.
Mr. Johnson lay languishing till seven or eight in the morning,
and then died.
In the mean time Mr. Kirkland had procured a number of armed
men to go down to Stanton, and to seize his lordship. When they came
there, my lord was just out of bed ; he had his garters in his hand, and
was seen passing towards the stable. The horses were all saddled, and
everything got in readiness for his escape.
Mr. Springthorpe advanced towards him j and when his lordship
found he was really to be attacked, he fled back to his house, and there
stood a siege of four or five hours. While he was thus beset, he
appeared at the garret windows, and thinking himself secure in that place,
he began to parley, and asked, what they wanted with him ? They told
him, Mr. Johnson was dead, and that they were come to secure him.
He said, he knew that was false ; for Mr. Johnson was not dead : that
he wished it might be true : that he would not believe it, unless Mr.
Kirkland would declare it : that he would pay no regard to any body
else. He did not think fit to surrender ; but continued in the house, till
he thought he had an opportunity of escaping through the garden. He
was there discovered by one Cutler, a collier, who was a bold man, and
determined to take him : he marched up to him ; and though his lord-
ship was armed with a blunderbuss, two or three pistols, and a dagger,
he submitted to the collier's taking him, without making the least resis-
tance : and the moment he was in custody, he declared he gloried in the
fact ; and again declared, that he intended to kill Johnson. He was
then carried to Mr. Kinsey's house, and remained there till after the
coroner sat upon the body.
I must mention to your lordships, that upon Mr. Hall, a clergyman,
being introduced to him, he told him, he knew his duty as well as he
or any other clergyman : that the fact he had committed was coolly and
deliberately done. So that your lordships see his declarations were con-
sistent and uniform, from the beginning to the end.
I shall neither aggravate nor observe.
These are the circumstances which attended this horrid murder. J
have opened them faithfully from my instructions. The case is rather
stronger than I have made it.
The witnesses are to acquaint your lordships, whether I have opened
the case truly. If the evidence comes out as I have represented it to
your lordships, then your lordships' sentence must be agreeable to law.
The noble Earl at the bar must be found guilty.
If he has any defence, God forbid that he should not have a fair
THE ARISTOCRACY. 25
opportunity of making it. Let him be heard with patience. The pro-
secutors will be as glad as your lordships to find him innocent.
The evidence is to determine ; and upon that evidence we shall leave it.' '
The entire evidence was in accordance with Mr. Attorney's narration,
and therefore little of it need be here given.
Earl Ferrers' own account of the actual murder was reported by the
medical witness, Mr. Thomas Kirkland, a surgeon at Ashby-de-la-Zouch,
who also described the last moments of Johnson, the victim, in the fol-
lowing examination : —
Mr. Attorney. Did any discourse pass between you relating to their
seizure of my lord's person ? — Mr. Kirkland. My lord did desire that I
would take care he was not seized, and I promised him I would.
Did you tell him how you meant to represent it ? — My lord asked me,
what I should say upon the occasion, if I was called upon ? I told his
lordship I should say, that, though Mr. Johnson was shot, yet there was
a great probability of his recovering j and that I thought there was no
necessity of seizing his lordship. His lordship then asked me, if I would
make oath of that before a justice of the peace, if I was called upon ? I
said, Yes.
Where was this ? and about what part of the night did the last con-
versation pass * — It was in the parlour.
What time was it ? Was it an hour before supper ? — I think this was
before supper j but it was repeated before and after supper.
Did my lord, in this discourse, say any thing relating to Mr. Johnson ?
— He told me, that Mr. Johnson had long been a villain to him. He
s;iid, he began his villainy in 1753 ; that he assisted in procuring the act
of parliament ; that he was in the interest of his enemies j that, on Mr.
Johnson's first coming there in the afternoon, he ordered him to settle
an account. He then told him, Johnson, you have been a villain to me j
if you don't sign a paper, confessing all your villainy, I'll shoot you. My
lord told me Johnson would not sign one. Therefore, says he, I bid him
kneel down on his knees to ask my pardon. I said, Johnson, if you have
any thing to say, speak quickly. Then,.said he, 1 fired at him. I know
he did not think I would have shot him j but I was determined to do it.
I was quite cool. I took aim 5 for I always aim with a pistol in this
manner.
Did any thing pass in reference to the farm ? — My lord told me he had
long wanted to drive Johnson out of his farm j and that he imagined,
alter he recovered, he would go into Cheshire, from whence he came,
and give him no more disturbance. He said he had long intended to
shoot him : that the chief reason he did it at this time was, an affair be-
tween Mr. Curzon, Mr. Burslem, and his lordship. But the greatest
part of this discourse was at the time that my lord was full of liquor.
Was he so full of liquor as to be deprived of his understanding ? — I
think not j he seemed to understand very well what he did.
Was he in liquor when you first saw Kim ? — Yes j not much.
Did he continue drinking during the time you saw him ? — He was
drinking porter -} they said it was porter.
Did you go to Mr. Johnson again ? — Yes ; after supper I went up
stairs to Mr. Johnson j nothing material passed ; but my lord enquired
what I thought of Mr. Johnson j and upon my setting things in the light
I thought I should, my lord seemed very well satisfied.
Was any thing said about the bowels or guts ? — My lord asked, if the
26 CURIOUS' TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
bowels were wounded, what would be the consequence ? I said, some
had had wounds in their bowels and recovered.
There was an expression used, that the bullet was lodged in the ab-
domen ; was that your's or my lord's expression ? — It was my expression.
Did you and my lord sit together in the evening? — Yes.
Was any wine brought ? — Yes ; Mrs. Clifford brought a bottle of wine,
and then his lordship again repeated, that he had shot Johnson, and that
he intended it.
Was there any thing passed between you relative to my lord's circum-
stances ? — A little before he went to bed, before 1 went to Mr. Johnson
the last time, my lord said, Kirkland, I know you can set this affair in
such a light, that I shall not be seized if you will j I owe you a bill, you
may have some of your money now, and the rest when you want it j I
told his lordship I did not want money, I should be glad to receive it
when it was most convenient to him.
Did you afterwards see my lord and Mr. Johnson together ? — Yes.
What passed ? — My lord went up to the bedside, and spoke it tempe-
rately ; Johnson, you know you have been a villain to me ; Mr. Johnson
made no answer, but desired my lord to let him alone at that time : my
lord kept calling of him villain j his passion rose, and he began to pull
the bed-clothes, and said, Have you not been a villain? Mr. Johnson
said, My lord, I may have been wrong as well as others : upon this, my
lord run up in a violent passion to the bed-side, I thought he would have
struck him ; but upon Mr. Johnson's declaring he might have been a
villain to his lordship, my lord went to the fire-side.
How came Mr. Johnson to make that answer? — I winked at him, and
he made the answer.
Was Miss Johnson in the room ? — Yes ; my lord went to her, after he
had abused her father, and said, Though he has been a villain to me, I
promise you before Kirkland, who I desire to be a witness, that I will
take care of your family, if you do not prosecute,
Did my lord go out of the room? — Yesj he went down stairs ; he
sent for me, and told me, he was afraid he had made Miss Johnson un-
easy j he desired I would tell her, he would be her friend : we came up
stairs together ; his lordship asked at the top of the stairs, whether I
thought Mr, Johnson would recover : I replied, Yes j he said, then I may
go to bed in safety j he went to bed directly,
What passed after? — The first thing I did I went to Mr. Johnson, who
desired, for God's sake, that I would remove him j while we were talk-
ing, I heard my lord open the door, and call up his pointer : Mr. Johnson
was a good deal alarmed at it, fearing my lord should come again j but
my lord shut the door ; then he again entreated me to remove him.
Was any proposal made to remove him before that ? — Yes j Mrs. Clif-
ford came down before that into the still-room, and said, Cannot Johnson
be removed ? My lord replied, No, he shall not be removed, till he be
either better or dead : and some time after that he said, he was glad he
had him in the house, that he could plague the rascal ; or some such
words.
Why did you propose to remove him ? — I thought it prudent for many
reasons to remove him ; J imagined, Mr. Johnson would die j and if
my lord came and found him dying, his resentment would rise against
me ; besides, Mr. Johnson was in a good deal of apprehension of being
again shot ; I really apprehended he might die through fear, for he was a
THE ARISTOCRACY. 27
man of a very weak constitution ; upon this I went to the Lount and got
a parcel of fellows, and placed Mr. Johnson in an easy chair, and carried
him upon poles to the Lount, where he got without being much fatigued.
Did you apprehend that the moving would be prejudicial to him, con-
sidering the condition he was in ? — It is impossible to say it might not;
but there was much more danger in leaving him at Stanton ; and he ex-
pressed satisfaction on my removing him : when he came there, he de-
sired he might be removed from one room where he was, into another j
for he said, my lord might come and shoot him there, the window was
facing the bed ; I told him, he might make himself easy, I would place
a sentry at each door.
At what time was Mr. Johnson removed ? — I believe about two o'clock
in the morning ; I am not quite certain of the hour.
How long did he live after that ? — He lived, as I was informed, till
about nine ; I did not leave him till seven o'clock.
In what condition was he when you left him ? — Weak and low, and
cold in the extremities.
What was your judgment about him ? — That he would be dead ; he
thought so himself.
What happened after he was dead ? — Nothing more than my examining
the body.
What did you do upon that ? — I examined it the next day when the
coroner's inquest was taken.
Did you give an account of the wound ? — The ball had passed just
under the lowest rib, on the left side, through one of the guts, and
through a bone we call the " os inominatum/' and lodged in the bone
called the " os sacrum."
Do you apprehend that Mr. Johnson died of that wound ? — I do ; I am
clear in it.
A Mr. Springthorpe, examined by Mr. Gould, thus related the seizure
of Lord Ferrers.
Was you present at the time of taking Lord Ferrers ? — Springthorpe.
I was.
What day was it ? — On Saturday morning.
What time in the morning? — I believe it was between ten and eleven
o'clock.
Had you a multitude of people with you ?•— The first part of the time I
had not ; but before he was taken there were a great many.
Was you armed ? — I had a pistol I took from Mr. Burslem's.
Where did you go first ? — I went to see Mr. Johnson; he was my
friend, and I found he was dead. Mr. Burslem desired I would go and
help to take Lord Ferrers : I condescended to do it. When I came to the
hall yard, my lord in a few minutes came ; he seemed to be going to the
stable, with his stockings down, and his garters in his hands ; his lord-
ship seeing me demanded to know what I wanted. I presented my pistol
to his lordship, and I said it was he I wanted, and I would have him ;
he put his hand, whether he was going to put his garters into his
pocket, or to pull out a pistol, I cannot say; but he suddenly run into
the house. I never saw more of him for two hours ; in about two hours
he came to the garret window ; I went under the window ; he called ; I
asked him what he wanted ; he said, How is Johnson ? I said he was
dead ; he said, You are a lying scoundrel, God damn you. I told him he was
dead ; he said, I will not believe it till Kirkland tells me so. I said he
28 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
was dead j he said, Then disperse the people, and I will go and surrender:
let the people in, and let them have some victuals and drink. 1 told him
I did not* come for victuals, but for him, and I would have him. He
went away from the window swearing he would not be taken. Two
hours after that there was a report that he was upon the bowling-green ;
I was at this part of the house : I run there, and, by the time I got there,
I saw two colliers had hold of his lordship. I said, I would take care
nobody should hurt him. I took from a man that had hold of him, a
pistol and a powder-horn j I shot the pistol off, and it made a great im-
pression against the stones. I heard my lord say, he had shot a villain
and a scoundrel, and, clapping his hand upon his bosom, he said, I glory
in his death. That is all I know of the matter.
Lord Ferrers being called upon for his defence, applied for an adjourn-
ment to the following day : to this Lord Mansfield objected, unless the
Earl would open the nature of his defence, or give some reason why he
was not then prepared to go on. This not being done, the Peers returned
to the Chamber of Parliament to debate the question, and on their coming
back into Westminster Hall, the Lord High Steward announced to Lord
Ferrers'that he was forthwith to proceed with his defence.
Lord Ferrers then addressed the Court as follows :—
Earl Ferrers. " My lords, the kind of defence I mentioned to your
lordships before, I really don't know how myself to enter upon ; it is
what my family have considered for me, and they have engaged all the
evidence that are to be examined upon this unhappy occasion, who I
really have not seen j I do not well know what they have to say : 1 should,
therefore, hope your lordships will give me all the assistance that is pos-
sible in their examination.
My lords, I believe that what I have already mentioned to your lord-
ships, as the ground of this defence, has been a family complaint ; and I
have heard that my own family have, of late, endeavoured to prove me
such. The defence I mean is occasional insanity of mindj and I am
convinced, from recollecting within myself, that, at the time of this ac-
tion, I could not know what I was about. I say, my lords, upon reflec-
ting within myself, I am convinced, that, at that time, I could not know
what I was about.
It has been too plainly proved, that, at the time this accident happened,
I was very sober, that I was not disordered with liquor : your lordships
will observe, from the evidence both of Mr. Kirkland and Miss Johnson,
that it plainly appeared that this man never suspected there was any
malice, or that I had any."
The evidence adduced in support of his Lordship's plea of insanity will
be found fully summed up, and commented on, in the reply of the
Solicitor General. The testimony of two witnesses, however, was of
such moment, that it is here given at length. The first of these was the
Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley, who was thus examined by Earl Ferrers.
What relation are you to me ? — Brother.
Do you know any, and which, of the family, that have been afflicted
with lunacy ; if you do, please to mention their names ? — I believe the
prisoner at the bar has that misfortune,
What is your reason for such belief? — I have many reasons for it. The
first is, that I have seen him several times talking to himself, clenching
his fists, grinning, and having several gestures of a madman, without
any seeming cause leading thereto. I have likewise very frequently known
THE ARISTOCRACY. 29
him extremely suspicious of plots and contrivances against him from his
own family; and, when he was desired to give some account what the
plots were that he meant, he could not make any direct answer. — Ano-
ther reason I have for thinking him so is, his falling into violent passion,
without any adequate cause.
Do you believe that, at some times, I have been hurried into violent
fits, so as not to know the distinction between a moral or immoral act ?
— I believe, at those times when my lord has been transported by this
disease of lunacy, that he has not been able to distinguish properly be-
tween moral good and evil.
Has any other of the family, besides myself, been afflicted with lunacy?
— I have heard -fstoptj
Please to inform their lordships, whether, at the time I have been
transported with such violent fits, they have been the effects of drink, and
whether they have happened when I was sober ? — Frequently when my
lord has been sober, much more so when he has been a little inflamed
with liquor.
Do you know of any intention in the family to take out a commission
of lunacy against me ? — I heard it talked of.
How long ago ? — I think I can recollect it was at the time of his lord-
ship's committing the outrage at Lord Westmoreland's house that it was
proposed to be done ; but afterwards they were afraid to go through
with it ; and the reason given was, lest, if the court of judicature should
not be thoroughly satisfied of my lord's lunacy upon inspection, that the
damage would be very great to those that should attempt it.
Why was the family afraid that I should appear in the courts of judi-
cature to be in my senses ? — Because my lord had frequently such long
intervals of reason, that, we imagined, if he, on the inspection, appeared
reasonable, the court would not grant the commission against him.
What damage do you mean that the family was apprehensive of, in case
the court should refuse a commission? — We apprehended my lord would
sue us for scandalum magnatum.
Was the family apprehensive of any other kind of damage ? — I know
of none.
Att. Gen. My lords, I did not intend to have troubled this gentleman ;
but from what he has said, your lordships will permit me to ask him two
or three questions ; I shall do it very tenderly, and with as much pro-
priety as I can. — In giving his account of the noble lord's state of mind,
as far as 1 could collect it, he said, that he had more reasons than one
why he deemed him to be insane.
Attorney General. Mr. Shirley, you said that the first ground was, that
his lordship would, at times, talk to himself, grin, and use certain ges-
tures, proper only to madmen — Now, as to this first mark of insanity,
was this frequently the case of his lordship ? — Very frequently.
Did he, at those times, speak loud, or use any intelligible language to
himself? — He did not.
Did he, at such times, offer to commit any mischief, or betray any
marks of disorder, while in that situation ? — I do not recollect any.
Then, as far as I can understand you, at those times, his behaviour in
those intervals was perfectly innocent. — Yes.
At such times have you ever entered into discourse with him ? — No, I
do not remember.
30 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
Did you never ask him a single question when you have seen him
walking backwards and forwards in the way you mention?—! don't
remember I have.
Did you never hear him speak at such times to other persons ? — Not
whilst he continued in those attitudes.
I don't ask ybu whether he conversed the time that he was mute, but
within a quarter or half an hour ? — I am not certain.
Your next ground for supposing him to be insane was, That he was
accustomed to be transported into passions without any adequate cause,
were those the words ? — Without any seeming cause.
Was not " adequate" the expression you used? — Yes.
I should be glad to know whether you deem every man that is trans-
ported with anger, without an adequate cause, to be a madman ? — I
deem it as a sign of madness in him ; but there were other causes.
I ask you a general question, and I do not expect a particular answer.
Whether you deem a person that is transported with fury without reason,
to be a madman ? — I think a person may be transported to fury without
an adequate cause, that is no madman.
Then please to recollect some particular instance of this frantic passion,
and state it. — I really cannot command my memory so far. I have not
seen my lord these two years, till the time of this unhappy confinement.
Then I am to understand you, that you cannot recollect one particular
instance j Am I or not ? — I cannot recollect any at this time.
Then as to the suspicion of plots without any foundation ; will you
please to enumerate any of those ? — He never himself would give any
particular account of what he suspected, only that he did suspect that
the family was in some combination against him -, and when I have asked
him, What it was that he meant ? he would never give me a direct answer
to that question.
Does that kind of behaviour, as you describe it, denote a man out of
his senses r — I thought so. I was so fully possessed of that opinion,
that I declared to other people long ago, that I thought him a madman.
Please to inform their lordships, whether the unfortunate earl lived
well or ill with his family? — Indeed, he did not live in friendship with his
family.
Were there not disputes on both sides ? — Yes, there were j his younger
brothers and sisters were under the unhappy constraint of suing for their
fortunes.
Then please to inform their lordships, whether, in truth, there was
not a combination in the family against him ? I do not mean a criminal
one. — I am very certain that was not what my lord alluded to.
If you are certain of that, you can inform their lordships what it was
that he alluded to ? — I will give a reason why I am certain it was not
that j because it appeared to be some secret combination : that was a
thing publicly known.
How did you recollect that the combination was secret ? — By my lord's
manner of expressing himself.
Can you recollect the phrase or the words he used ? — I cannot.
In another part of your examination you was asked, whether the earl
could distinguish between good and evil ? You said he could not dis-
tinguish {hem properly. Was he at that time less able to distinguish
properly between good and evil than any other man that is transported
into a violent passion ? — I never saw any man so transported.
THE ARISTOCRACY, 31
Did be express himself in insensible words, so as that you could dis-
cover the state of his mind ; and that it was that of a madman, and not
a man in passion ? — I considered it as madness.
Can you recollect any expression, in any fit of passion that my lord
was in, that might not as well have come from the mouth of any other
passionate man ? — Indeed I cannot.
You recollect an old adage, " Ira furor brevis est :" do you believe
that his was such madness as is there poetically described ? — I believe
that it really proceeded from madness.
Have you ever seen him so transported upon any other occasion than
that of anger? Have you seen any appearance of that kind when he was
cool and calm? — I have seen him break into passions without any seem-
ing cause.
You said you could not remember any instance, when the question was
asked you ; can you now ? — I remember once being at a hunting seat at
Quarendon in Leicestershire, as I chose to avoid the bottle, I went up
stairs to the ladies ; Lady Ferrers, at that time, lived with him ; and,
without any previous quarrel, my lord came up stairs into the room j and
after standing for some time with his back to the fire, he broke out into
the grossest abuse of me, insulting me, and swearing at me ; and I can-
not to this day or hour conceive any reason for it.
Had you never any dispute or quarrel with your brother ? — Not at that
time.
Might not you have had some quarrel a few days before ? — No.
Are you confident of that ? — I am confident.
Had he no suspicion at that time of you interesting yoiirself with re-
spect to my Lady Ferrers ? — There was then no quarrel existing.
Had there never been a quarrel between my lord and my lady ? — I think
not ; it was soon after his marriage.
The other witness was one Elizabeth Williams, who was also thus
examined by the Earl.
How long have you known Lord Ferrers > — A great many years.
Do you know of any distemper that Lord Ferrers is afflicted with, and
what is it ? — He never appeared like any other gentleman.
Wherein did he differ from any other people in general ? — He always
was a-musing and talking to himself. He spit in the looking-glass, tore
the pictures, swearing he would break my bureau open, and would break
all the glasses in my house, and would throttle me if I would not let
him do it.
Had he any particular reason for this conduct ? — None that I ever
saw, but like a delirious man,
Did you keep a public-house ? — Yes.
How near did you live to my lord? — My lord was at my house,
and boarded with me.
Are you the wife of the witness Williams? — Yes.
Where did Lord Ferrers live, at the time he behaved in that odd man-
ner you speak of? — He had lodgings at Muswell-Hill.
How far did you live from him ? — Two miles, to the best of my
knowledge; he frequently used to come; I have made him coffee and
sent up a dish, he always drank it out of the spout, which surprised me,
that I thought him delirious.
How long ago is that ? — I believe it is about twelve months ago, to
the best of my knowledge.
32 CURIOUS TEIALS CONNECTED WITH
Have you often seen Lord Ferrers behave in that manner ?— I never
saw him behave like any other gentleman in my life.
Was the coffee hot when he drank it out of the spout? — Hot. He
always went about the town like a madman, throttled me, and threw me
down in the yard, one day when he took the horse away.
Did you think Lord Ferrers a madman ? — I know he was by all
appearance.
Was he generally thought so by other people ? — By all the whole
town.
A Lord. When he threatened to break open your bureau, and to use
you ill if you did not let him do it, was he in liquor ? — El. Williams.
Sober as I am now.
A Lord. Did you ever, upon any occasion when he committed these
outrages, observe that he had been drinking ? — El. Williams. Never ;
he never drank in the morning but a little tea, or coffee, or some broth.
Earl Ferrers. Have you ever seen me commit any other acts of
outrage besides those you have mentioned ? — A great many more that
are worse.
Name them. — Swearing, cursing, and damning us ; and wishing us all
at hell, and himself at hell j and threatened to break the glasses j
and talked to himself for hours together in bed.
Was he drunk or sober at those times ? — Very rarely j but he seemed
more to be disturbed in his mind.
Mention the circumstance about my coming for the mare. — My lord
came for the mare, it was at church-time, and brought his servants, and
a hammer in his hand, and guns, with a tuck in his hand, and broke the
stable door open by violence of arms, and knocked me down with his
arm, and run the tuck into my husband, fetched the blood, I was obliged to
have a surgeon to attend him -, and took the mare away by force of arms j
and if any body came to hinder him, he said he would blow their brains
out. He always had pistols nobody knew of. I never saw any gentle-
man that came to my house before, that had those things about them.
I used to like to take them out of his bed-chamber, but was afraid to
touch them, for fear of what he should do to me himself, by seeing his
mind so disturbed.
Were those outrages committed when he was drunk or sober? —
Sober for the general ; and when he took the mare away, as sober as he
is now.
Earl of Hardwicke. Inform their lordships, whether, before my lord
came in this manner to get the mare out of the stable, he had before
sent any servant to demand the mare, and had been refused ? — Williams.
Yes, he had, the boy was gone to church. We always kept it under
lock, because there was more of his lordship's horses ; and nobody was
to go into the stable but his lordship's ostler.
At the conclusion of the evidence of insanity, the Earl put in a paper
which was read by the clerk, and ran as follows : —
My lords : It is my misfortune to be accused of a crime of the most
horrid nature. My defence is, in general, that I am Not Guilty : the
fact of Homicide is proved against me by witnesses, who, for aught I
can say, to the contrary, speak truly.
But if I know myself at this time, I can truly affirm, I was ever
THE ARISTOCRACY. 33
incapable of it, knowingly : if I have done and said what has been
alleged, I must have been deprived of my senses.
I have been driven to the miserable necessity of proving my own
want of understanding; and *im told, the law will not allow me
the assistance of counsel in this nase, in which, of all others, I should
think it most wanted.
The more I stand in need of assistance, the greater reason I have to
hope for it from your lordships.
Witnesses have been called to prove my insanity — to prove an unhappy
disorder of mind, and which I am grieved to be under the necessity of
exposing.
If they have not directly proved me so insane as not to know the
difference between a moral and immoral action, they have at least proved
that I was liable to be driven and hurried into that unhappy condition
upon very slight occasions.
Your lordships will consider whether my passion, rage, madness (or
whatever it may be called) was the effect of a weak or distempered
mind, or whether it arose from my own wickedness, or inattention
to my duty.
If I could have controlled my rage, I am answerable for the conse-
quences of it. But if I could not, and if it was the mere effect of a
distempered brain, I am not answerable for the consequences.
My lords, I mention these things as hints — I need not, indeed I
cannot, enlarge upon this subject : your lordships will consider all cir-
cumstances, and I am sure you will do me justice.
If it be but a matter of doubt, your lordships will run the hazard
of doing me injustice, if you find me guilty.
My lords, if my insanity had been of my own seeking, as the sudden
effect of drunkenness, I should be without excuse. But it is proved, by
witnesses for the crown, that I was not in liquor.
Mr. Kirkland, who drank and conversed with me, in order to betray
me, (Mr. Attorney may commend his caution, but not his honesty,) re-
presents me the most irrational of all madmen, at the time of my doing
a deed which I reflect upon with the utmost abhorrence.
The Counsel for the Crown will put your lordships in mind of every
circumstance against me ; I must require of your lordships' justice, to
recollect every circumstance on the other side.
My life is in your hands, and I have every thing to hope, as my
conscience does not condemn me of the crime I stand accused of ; for I
had no preconceived malice ; and was hurried into the perpetration
of this fatal deed by the fury of a disordered imagination.
To think of this, my lords, is an affliction, which can be aggravated
only by the necessity of making it my defence.
May God Almighty direct your judgments, and correct my own !
Earl Ferrers. My lords, I will mention one circumstance, which I did
speak of yesterday j it was said, that I knew of a lease Johnson had,
but it has never been proved j therefore, I imagine, that what I asserted,
that I did not know of it, must be admitted as truth.
L. H. S. Earl Ferrers, Hath your lordship any thing further to offer ?
Earl Ferrers. No.
The Solicitor General, the Hon. Charles Yorke, afterwards Lord
Chancellor, made a long and elaborate reply on the part of the Crown.
VOL. iv. NO. xv. D
34 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
From it is here extracted the portion which bore upon the prisoner's de-
fence of insanity.
Sol. Gen. " My lords, what is the evidence produced by the noble lord ?
In the first place, there is none which applies to the time of committing
the fact. His sobriety is admitted, and drunkenness would not excuse ;
and even supposing it had appeared to your lordships, that the noble
prisoner was sometimes, by fits and starts, under a degree of lunacy or
temporary insanity j yet if he was of sound mind at that hour, he is a
person within all the rules and distinctions which Lord Hale explain?.
But, my lords, in the next place, I must observe, that no general
evidence has been offered, which proves his lunacy or insanity at
any time ; for his own witnesses fail in their endeavours to shew it.
This appears from their manner of expressing themselves in their origi-
nal examination j but still more in the answers, which they gave to the
questions asked upon the cross-examination.
The two first witnesses called were, Mr. Benefold, and Mr. Goostrey.
They describe the insanity of the noble lord at the bar to consist of
flights. They say, that he would swear; would talk to himself; that
he would use strange gestures ; that he had friends, and suspected them ;
that he was of a positive temper, and difficult to be dissuaded from any
opinion or resolution which he had once formed. But Mr. Bennefold,
upon the cross-examination, admitted, that he never knew of any act of
wildness done by his lordship, nor any physician sent for, to take care of
him in that respect. He said, upon the whole, that he thought Lord
Ferrers had better parts and understanding than ordinary men. Mr.
Goostrey told your lordships, upon the cross-examination, that he
had done business several years for Lord Ferrers; that he had advised
and prepared deeds for his lordship to execute ; that he had assisted in
suffering a recovery to bar the entail of the estate ; and admitted his
sense and capacity in general, but inferred insanity from positive-
ness of temper and opinion. However, in answer to a question proposed
by one of your lordships, he said, that he thought Lord Ferrers capable
of distinguishing between moral and immoral actions.
Several other witnesses have been called to-day. I will first mention
Mr. Clarges. He describes similar circumstances with Mr. Bennefold
and Mr. Goostrey, from which he collects the insanity of the noble
prisoner. He said, that he had observed great oddities in my lord,
during his minority, but no defect of understanding. He could not
specify particular instances ; and added, that his lordship was jealous
and suspicious : but the witness never saw him in such a situation,
as not to be capable of distinguishing between good and evil, and not to
know, that murder was a great crime.
My lords, this account of the state of the noble prisoner's mind
is consistent, not only with a considerable degree of understanding, but
with the highest degree of it. If the law were to receive such excuses,
it would put a sword into the hand of every savage and licentious man,
to disturb private life, and public order.
My lords, there was another witness of a different and a much lower
sort than those whom I have named ; I mean Elizabeth Williams. She
was the only person who said, that the noble Earl was always mad.
When she came to explain the instances from which bhe drew that con-
clusion, the principal one insisted upon was ridiculous ; the anger which
he shewed against a servant, who had neglected to take care of a
THE ARISTOCRACY. Si)
favourite mare, intrusted to his management. This was a vivacity
so natural, that if it be deemed a symptom of madness, few are free
from it j and I doubt the inference will go far in cases of common life.
The two next witnesses, whom I will mention, are the brothers of the
noble Earl, My lords, I own I felt for them. It gave me pain to
see them, in a cause which touches a brother's life, brought to the
bar as witnesses, to mitigate the consequences of one misfortune,
by endeavouring to prove another of the most tender and affecting
nature ; and if they had spoke stronger to matters of conjecture, opinion,
and belief, for my part, I could easily have excused them.
My lords, they both spoke vviih caution, and as men of honour ; but
one of them was the only witness of weight, who expressed a belief,
that, at particular times, the noble lord might not be able to distinguish
between moral good and evil. I did not observe, that he spoke of any
instance within his own recollection. The circumstances, from which
these gentlemen inferred insanity, were for the most part of the same
kind with those which came from the mouths of the other witnesses.
They did not carry the marks of it in the least degree beyond that
evidence. And Mr. Walter Shirley admitted, that the noble lord at the
bar had long intervals of reason. I endeavour to repeat the expression,
and I think it was so. Mr. Robert Shirley told your lordships, that
he had not seen the noble prisoner for four years past ; that the last
time of seeing Lord Ferrers was, at Burton upon Trent. He mentioned
the carrying of pistols, and a large case knife, at that time. I under-
stood him to say, that the noble lord generally did so ; the witness had
seen it only once ; but from that circumstance he argued insanity.
Your lordships will judge, whether this practice might not be owing to
jealousy and violence of temper, as well as to lunacy and madness.
The witness added, that he had written formerly to his brother Captain
Washington Shirley, about taking out a commission of lunacy against
Lord Ferrers ; but I could not find, that any measures were taken in
consequence of that opinion given by the witness, nor did he himself
ever take any steps towards it, nor any branch of his family.
The last witness called, on behalf of the noble prisoner, was Doctor
Monro. He was brought here to describe, what symptoms he considers
as marks of lunacy or insanity. He said, that there were many; and on
being asked particularly, as to the several symptoms suggested in this
cause, Doctor Monro was led to speak principally of three marks of
lunacy. The first was common fury, not caused by liquor, but raised by
it. Surely this circumstance will not infer insanity. The next was,
jealousy and suspicion, with causeless quarrelling. Do not many, who
are not lunatics, suspect or quarrel without cause, and become dangerous
to their neighbours? The third was, carrying arms; which (he said)
though less usual, might be a mark of lunacy. And it is equally true,
that such behaviour may prove, in many cases, a bad heart and vicious
mind, as well as lunacy. My lords, the general observation, which
occurs upon Dr. Monro's evidence, is this ; that he did not describe any
of those things^ as absolute marks of lunacy, so as to denote every man
a lunatic, who was subject to them. Indeed he could not have said it,
consistently with common sense arid experience.
This was the import of the evidence of the noble prisoner No wit-
nesses were offered, on the part of the King, in reply to that evidence,
36 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
And, my lords, the reason why they were not offered was, because the
counsel who attended your lordships for the King, choose to submit it to
your opinions, whether the evidence produced for the prisoner does not
tend to strengthen, rather than weaken, that proof of capacity, which
arises out of all circumstances urged, in support of the charge ? From
those circumstances, I have already shewn, that the noble prisoner was
conscious of what he did, at the time of the offence committed j that he
weighed the motives j that he acted with deliberation , that he knew
the consequences.
I will only take notice of one thing more. Your lordships have
attended with great patience, and the most impartial regard to justice,
to all the evidence, and every observation, which has been laid before
you. You have seen the noble prisoner, for two days at your bar
(though labouring under the weight of this charge), cross-examining the
witnesses for the King, and examining his own in a manner so pertinent,
as cannot be imputed merely to the hints and advice of those agents and
counsel, with which you have indulged him. I am persuaded, from the
appearance and conduct of the noble prisoner, that if the fact itself
would have admitted doubts, and probable arguments, to repel the force
of any one material circumstance, your lordships would have heard him
press those arguments, with sense and sagacity.
But, my lords, the truth is, that the fact tried this day stands without
alleviation. There is not a colour for the defence, unless it arises from
the enormity of the crime, aggravated by the manner of committing it ;
an old, faithful servant of himself and his family, murdered in cold blood,
whilst he was performing, by express orders, an act of dutiful attendance
upon his master ; murdered in the most deliberate and wilful manner,
destructive of all confidence in human society. My lords, in some sense,
every crime proceeds from insanity. All cruelty, all brutality, all
revenge, all injustice, is insanity. There were philosophers, in ancient
times, who held this opinion, as a strict maxim of their sect ; and,
my lords, the opinion is right in philosophy, but dangerous in judicature.
It may have a useful and a noble influence, to regulate the conduct
of men ; to controul their impotent passions ; to teach them, that
virtue is the perfection of reason, as reason itself is the perfection
of human nature; but not to extenuate crimes, nor to excuse those
punishments, which the law adjudges to be their due.
My lords, the necessity of his Majesty's justice; the necessity of
public example, called for this prosecution ; and the effect of the whole
evidence is submitted to the weight and wisdom of your judgment/'
The peers unanimously found Lord Ferrers guilty, and on the 18th
April, the third day of the trial, the Earl was brought up for judgment.
His lordship being called upon to say why sentence of death should not
pass, thus addressed the Court through the clerk.
" My lords, I must acknowledge myself infinitely obliged for the fair and
candid trial your lordships have indulged me with.
I am extremely sorry that I have troubled your lordships with a defence
that I was always much averse to, and has given me the greatest un-
easiness ; but was prevailed on by my family to attempt it, as it was
what they themselves were persuaded of the truth of; and had proposed
to prove me under the unhappy circumstances that have been ineffec-
tually represented to your lordships.
THE ARISTOCRACY. 37
This defence has put me off from what I proposed, and what perhaps
might have taken off the malignity of the accusation ; but, as there has
been no proof made to your lordships, can only be deemed at this time
my own assertion j but that I must leave to your lordships.
My lords, I have been informed of this intention of the family before ;
and your lordships, I hope, will be so good to consider, the agony of mind
a man must be under, when his liberty and property are both attacked :
my lords, under these unhappy circumstances, though the plea I have
attempted was not sufficient to acquit me to your lordships, according to
the laws of this country j yet I hope your lordships will think, that ma-
lice, represented by the counsel for the crown, could not subsist ; as I
was so unhappy as to have no person present at the time of the fatal
accident, it was impossible for me to shew your lordships, that I was not
at that instant possessed of my reason.
As the circumstances of my case are fresh in your lordships' memories,
I hope your lordships will, in compassion to my infirmities, be kind
enough to recommend me to his majesty's clemency.
My lords, as I am uncertain whether my unhappy case is within the
late act of parliament, if your lordships should be of opinion that it is, I
humbly hope the power of respiting the execution will be extended in
my favour, that I may have an opportunity of preparing myself for the
great event, and that my friends may be permitted to have access to me.
If any thing I have offered should be thought improper, I hope your
lordships will impute it to the great distress I am under at this juncture."
Lord High Steward. Has your lordship any thing else to offer ? — Earl
Ferrers. No.
Proclamation was then made for silence.
Lord High Steward. " Lawrence Earl Ferrers ; His majesty, from his
royal and equal regard to justice, and his steady attention to our consti-
tution, (which hath endeared him in a wonderful manner to the universal
duty and affection of his subjects) hath commanded this inquiry to be
made, upon the blood of a very ordinary subject, against your lordship,
a peer of this realm : your lordship hath been arraigned ; hath pleaded,
and put yourself on your peers ; and they (whose judicature is founded
and subsists in wisdom, honour, and justice) have unanimously found
your lordship guilty of the felony and murder charged in the indictment.
It is usual, my lord, for courts of justice, before they pronounce the
dreadful sentence pronounced by the law, to open to the prisoner the
nature of the crime of which he is convicted ; not in order to aggravate
or afflict, but to awaken the mind to a due attention to, and consideration
of, the unhappy situation into which he hath brought himself.
My lord, the crime of which your lordship is found guilty, murder, is
incapable of aggravation j and it is impossible, but that, during your lord-
ship's long confinement, you must have reflected upon it, represented to
your mind in the deepest shades, and with all its train of dismal and de-
testable consequences.
As your lordship hath received no benefit, so you can derive no con-
solation from that refuge you seemed almost ashamed to take, under a
pretended insanity ; since it hath appeared to us all, from your cross-
examination of the king's witnesses, that you recollected the minutest
circumstances of facts and conversations, to which you and the witnesses
only could be privy, with the exactness of a memory more than ordinary
38 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
sound ; it is therefore as unnecessary as it would be painful to me, to
dwell longer on a subject so black and dreadful.
It is with much more satisfaction, that I can remind your lordship,
that though, from the present tribunal, before which you now stand, you
can receive nothing but strict and equal justice ; yet you are soon to
appear before an Almighty Judge, whose unfathomable wisdom is able,
by means incomprehensible to our narrow capacities, to reconcile justice
with mercy ; but your lordship's education must have informed you, and
you are now to remember, such beneficence is only to be obtained by
deep contrition, sound, unfeigned, and substantial repentance.
Confined strictly, as your lordship must be, for the very short re-
mainder of your life, according to the provision of the late act $ yet, from
the wisdom of the legislature, which, to prevent as much as possible,
this heinous and horrid offence of murder, hath added infamy to death -,
you will be still, if you please, entitled to converse and communicate
with the ablest divines of the Protestant church, to whose pious care and
consolation, in fervent prayer and devotion, I most cordially recommend
your lordship.
Nothing remains for me, but to pronounce the dreadful sentence of
the law ; and the judgment of the law is, and this high court doth award,
That you, Lawrence Earl Ferrers, return to the prison of the Tower,
from whence you came ; from thence you must be led to the place of
execution, on Monday next, being the 21st day of this instant April j and
when you come there, you must be hanged by the neck till you are dead,
and your body must be dissected and anatomized.
And God Almighty be merciful to your soul !"
The prisoner was removed from the bar by the Lieutenant of the Tower.
The commission of the High Steward was then dissolved, and the Court
adjourned.
The following account of the execution of Earl Ferrers is to be found
attached to most reports extant, of his lordship's trial.
The Sheriffs, on Monday, the 5th day of May, 1761, being attended
by their under- sheriffs, and other proper officers, went to the outward
gate of the Tower of London, and at nine o'clock in the morning sent
notice to the Lieutenant that they were there, ready to receive the body
of Lawrence Earl Ferrers, Viscount Tamwortb, pursuant to the King's
writ in that behalf.
His lordship being informed of it, sent a message to the sheriffs,
requesting their permission that he might go in his own landau, which
was waiting for him at the Tower, instead of the mourning- coach
which had been provided by his friends ; which request being granted,
his lordship, attended by the Reverend Mr. Humphreys, the chaplain of
the Tower, entered into his landau, drawn by six horses, and was
conducted in it, by the officers of the Tower, to the outward gate, and
there delivered into the custody of the sheriffs, upon their giving
the following' receipt :
'% Tower-Hill, 5th May, 1760.
" Received then of Charles Rainsford, Esq., Deputy- Lieutenant of the
Tower of London, the body of the within-named Lawrence Earl Ferrers,
Viscount Tamworth, delivered to us in obedience of the King's writ, of
which the within is a tpuc copy. — GEO. ERRINGTON, PAUL VAILLANT,
Sheriffs of London and Sheriff of Middlesex."
THE ARISTOCRACY. 39
Mr. Sheriff Vaillant accompanied his lordship in the landau from the
Tower gate to the place of execution j and, upon his entrance into it,
addressing himself to his lordship, he told him, That it gave him
the highest concern to wait upon him upon so melancholy an occasion,
but he would do everything in his power to render his situation as easy
as possible j and hoped that, whatever he did, his lordship would impute
to the necessary discharge of his duty. — To which his lordship answered,
Sir, I am very much obliged to you, I take it very kindly that you are
pleased to accompany me. — His lordship being dressed in a suit of light
clothes, embroidered with silver, said, You may, perhaps, Sir, think
it strange to see me in this dress, but I have my particular reasons for it.
The civil and military powers attended the sheriffs from thence to the
place of execution, and the procession was as follows : —
First, a very large body of the constables for the county of Middle-
sex (the greatest probably that ever had been assembled together on any
occasion), preceded by one of the high-constables.
Then a party of horse-grenadiers, and a party of foot j
Then Mr. Sheriff Errington in his chariot, accompanied therein by his
under-sheriff Mr. Jackson j
Then followed the landau, escorted by two other of horse-grenadiers
and foot ;
Then Mr. Sheriff Vaillant's chariot, in which was his under-sheriff Mr.
Nicolls ;
Then a mourning coach and six ;
And, lastly, a hearse and six, which was provided for the conveyance
of his lordship's corpse from the place of execution to Surgeons-Hall.
The procession was conducted with the utmost solemnity ; but moved
so very slow, that it did not reach the place of execution till a quarter before
twelve, so that his lordship was two hours and three quarters in the landau ;
during the whole of which time he appeared to be perfectly easy and
composed, and his decent deportment seemed greatly to affect the minds
of all who beheld him ; insomuch that although his lordship thus passed
many hundred thousand spectators, yet so respectful was the behaviour
of all towards him, that not the least affront or indignity was offered to
him by any one ; but, on the contrary, many persons saluted him with
their prayers for his salvation.
His lordship asked the sheriff, if he had ever seen so great a concourse
of people before ? and upon his answering that he had not; I suppose,
said his lordship, it is, because they never saw a lord hanged before. He
said, that he had wrote to the king, to beg that he might suffer where
his ancestor the Earl of Essex had suffered j and that he was in the
greater hopes of obtaining the favour, as he had the honour of quartering
part of the same arms, and of being allied to his majesty, and that he
thought it was hard that he must die at the place appointed for the exe-
cution of common felons. But whatever his lordship's thoughts were
upon that account, those considerations will for ever throw an additional
lustre on his majesty's impartiality and justice.
Mr. Humphries the chaplain, who, it seems, had not attended his lord-
ship till this morning, took occasion to observe, that the world would
naturally be very inquisitive concerning the religion his lordship pro-
fessed -, and asked him, If he chose to say any thing upon that subject ?
To which his lordship answered, That, he did not think himself at all ac-
40 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
countable to the world for his sentiments on religion ; but that he had
always believed in, and adored one God, the maker of all things ; that
whatever his notions were, he had never propagated them, or endeavoured
to gain any person over to his persuasion j that all countries and nations
had a form of religion by which the people were governed, and that
whoever disturbed them in it, he looked upon him as an enemy to society ;
but that, if he himself was wrong in his way of thinking, he was very
sorry for it. That he very much blamed my Lord Bolingbroke, for per-
mitting his sentiments on religion to be published to the world. That
the many sects and disputes which happen about religion, have almost
turned morality out of doors. That he could never believe what some
sectaries teach, that faith alone will save mankind ; so that if a man,
just before he dies, should say only, I believe, that that alone will save
him ; " Shew me thy faith." — Here his lordship stopped ; but by which
quotation he plainly meant, according to the holy writer, (St. James,
chap. ii. v. 18.) whose words they are, that faith without works is a dead
faith.
Concerning the unfortunate and much-to-be-lamented Mr. Johnson,
whose death occasioned the trouble this day, his lordship declared, That
he was under particular circumstances j that he had met with so many
crosses and vexations he scarce knew what he did ; and most solemnly
protested, that he had not the least malice towards him.
The slowness of the procession made this journey appear so very tedi-
ous to his lordship, that he often expressed his desire of being got to the
end of it, saying, that the apparatus of death, and the passing through
such crowds of people, were ten times worse than death itself ; but upon
the sheriff's taking notice to his lordship, that he was glad to see that he
supported himself so well, his lordship replied, I thank you, Sir, I hope I
shall continue so to the last.
When his lordship had got to that part of Holborn which is near Drury-
lane, he said, he was thirsty, and should be glad of a glass of wine and
water j but upon the sheriff's remonstrating to him, that a stop for that
purpose would necessarily draw a greater crowd about him, which might
possibly disturb and incommode him, yet if his lordship still desired it, it
should be done ; he most readily answered, — That's true, I say no more,
let us by no means stop.
When they approached near the place of execution, his lordship told
the sheriff, That there was a person waiting in a coach near there, for
whom he had a very sincere regard, and of whom he should be glad to
take his leave before he died j to which the sheriff answered, That if his
lordship insisted upon it, it should be so ; but that he wished his lord-
ship, for his own sake, would decline it, lest the sight of a person, for
whom he had such a regard, should unman him, and disarm him of the forti-
tude he possessed. — To which his lordship, without the least hesitation,
replied, Sir, if you think I am wrong, I submit ; and upon the sheriff's
telling his lordship, that if he had any thing to deliver to that person, or
any one else, he would faithfully do it ; his lordship thereupon delivered
to the sheriff a pocket-book, in which was a bank-note, and a ring, and a
purse with some guineas, in order to be delivered to that person, which
was done accordingly.
The landau being now advanced to the place of execution, his lordship
alighted from it, and ascended upon the scaffold, which was covered with
THE ARISTOCRACY. 41
black baize, with the same composure and fortitude of mind he had en-
joyed from the time he left the Tower j where, after a short stay, Mr.
Humphries asked his lordship, if he chose to say prayers ? which he de-
clined j but upon his asking him. If he did not choose to join with him
in the Lord's Prayer ? he readily answered, He would, for he always
thought it a very fine prayer ; upon which they knelt down together
upon two cushions, covered with black baize, and his lordship with an
audible voice very devoutly repeated the Lord's Prayer, and afterwards,
with great energy, the following ejaculation, O God, forgive me all my
errors, — pardon all my sins.
His lordship then rising, took his leave of the sheriffs and the chaplain j
and after thanking them for their many civilities, he presented his watch
to Mr. Sheriff Vaillant, which he desired his acceptance of , and signified
his desire, that his body might be buried at Breden or Stanton, in
Leicestershire.
His lordship then called for the executioner, who immediately came to
him, and asked him forgiveness ; upon which his lordship said, I freely
forgive you, as I do all mankind, and hope myself to be forgiven.— He
then intended to give the executioner five guineas, but, by mistake,
giving it into the hands of the executioner's assistant, an unseasonable
dispute ensued between those unthinking wretches, which Mr. Sheriff
Vaillant instantly silenced.
The executioner then proceeded to do his duty, to which his lordship,
with great resignation, submitted. — His neckcloth being taken off, a
white cap, which his lordship had brought in his pocket, being put upon
his head, his arms secured by a black sash from incommoding himself,
and the cord put round his neck, he advanced by three steps upon an
elevation in the middle of the scaffold, where part of the floor had been
raised about eighteen inches higher than the rest ; and standing under
the cross-beam which went over it, covered with black baize, he asked
the executioner, Am I right ? — Then the cap was drawn over his face :
and then, upon a signal given by the sheriff (for his lordship, upon being
before asked, declined to give one himself) that part upon which he
stood, instantly sunk down from beneath his feet, and left him entirely
suspended ; but not having sunk down so low as was designed, it was
immediately pressed down, and levelled with the rest of the floor.
Fora few seconds his lordship made some struggles against the attacks
of death, but was soon eased of all pain by the pressure of the execu-
tioner.
The time from his lordship's ascending upon the scaffold, until his
execution, was about eight minutes ; during which his countenance did
not change, nor his tongue falter : — The prospect of death did not at all
shake the composure of his mind.
Whatever were his lordship's failings, his behaviour in these his last
moments, which created a most awful and respectful silence amidst the
numberless spectators, cannot but make a sensible impression upon every
human breast.
The accustomed time of one hour being past, the coffin was raised up,
with the greater decency to receive the body, and being deposited in the
hearse, was conveyed by the sheriffs, with the same procession, to Sur-
geons-Hall, to undergo the remainder of the sentence (viz. dissection). —
Which being done, the body was on Thursday evening, the 8th of May,
delivered to his friends for interment.
42 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY.
He was privately interred at St. Pancras near London, in a grave dug
twelve or fourteen feet deep, under the belfry.
Pursuant to a distinction in law, peculiarly fine, the Earldom of Ferrers,
was not forfeited by the attainder for felony, but passed to the convicted
lord's next brother, Vice Admiral, the Hon. Washington Shirley, who
consequently became the fifth Earl : his nephew Washington, the eighth
Earl, was the grandfather, and immediate predecessor of the nobleman
who now enjoys the title. The reason for the non-forfeiture of the Earl-
dom of Ferrers lay in the difference between a dignity descendible to
heirs general, and one that is (as it was) entailed j the former, it seems,
being absolutely forfeited by the attainder of felony of the person pos-
sessed of such dignity, while the entailed honour is only forfeited during
the lifetime of the offender.
During the interval between sentence, and execution, Earl Ferrers
made a will, by which he left £1300 to the children of Johnson whom
he had murdered, £1000 to each of his own four natural daughters, and
£60 a-year to Mrs. Clifford, their mother, who it will be remembered is
mentioned in the course of the trial as residing with the Earl at the time
of his offence. This will, however, being made after his conviction, was
not valid, yet the same provision was allowed to the parties by the un-
fortunate nobleman's successor.
The following verse is said to have been found in Earl Ferrers' apart-
ment in the Tower, after he had quitted it for his last fatal journey.
In doubt I liv'd, in doubt I die,
Yet stand prepar'd, the vast abyss to try,
And undismayed expect eternity.
43
-
A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY.
BY AN IRISH LADY.
IN an old mansion on that part of the beautiful peninsula of Mucruss, where
the land rises gently from the lakes to the horizon of distant mountains,
an old gentleman resided with his orphan niece ; he had passed the greater
part of his life in the army, and had seen much foreign service. Many years
separation from his country had not weakened his attachments to the land
of his birth ; he found that land poor, and beautiful as when he left it, and
its lakes as fresh, and fields as green ; but the loved companions of those
early haunts, he found them not. The spoiler death had claimed them in
his absence, and left him on his return a mourning stranger in his own
country. Sorrow and gloom hung over his spirits, until his attention was
directed by the clergyman of the parish to his orphan niece, the only child
of his favourite sister. This young lady had been placed, on the death of
her parents, in a neighbouring convent, where she remained until her uncle
took her to his lonely home and heart, where her presence soon shed such
lights on both, as made the old man young again.
To the admirers of the grand and picturesque in Nature, the
Lakes of Killarney present a combination of all that is sublime and beauti-
ful. Magnificent mountains encircle them, some of which are bare and
rocky, while others are clothed in wood; numerous islands float on the
waters — islands lovely in eternal verdure, where the sweet-scented arbutus,
and shining holly cluster round hallowed ruins of antiquity, shading their
fallen greatness, and embalming their relics in fragrant perfume. The
tourist, the poet, and the painter, become enthusiasts amidst those magic
scenes. It is not therefore strange that those who have been familiar with
them from childhood, should love them with a proud attachment. Such
was the case with Captain Fitzallan and his fair niece Rose O'Brien.
Rose was one of those bright beings who seem formed for so pure and lofty
a region, where Nature presides in all her loveliness amidst her own bold
and beauteous work.
The Captain enjoyed many amusements in his rural retirement, as the
lakes possess a variety of excellent fish, and the mountains and woods
abound with game. He was a good sportsman, and with his rod or gun,
he never knew a weary moment ; Rose bestowed social refinements on his
domestic hours. She was as happy as beautiful, and lived unfettered by
care or sorrow. Her young heart was as free as the mountain breeze,
which floated round her from infancy. She shared her uncle's enthusiasm
for the grand and sublime scenery which surrounded them, and was his con-
stant companion on the lakes and mountains. Every returning month of
June, her birthday was celebrated by a rural fete on the beautiful mountain
of Glena&, a favourite spot with both, for it was covered with the richest
moss, shadowed by woods of oak, and ash, and planted by Nature's own
cunning hand, with the loveliest shrubs, forming in truth a Paradise of
tranquil beauty and repose. The old man loved to call his child the Rose
of Glenaa, and she was so designated by his friends and household.
Amongst the many travellers who visited the lakes in the autumn of 1 8 — ,
44 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNBr.
were Edmund Beaumont and his tutor ; the former was the youngest son of
an aristocratic and wealthy English family, and the best beloved child of a
doting mother. His tutor, though many years his senior, (for Edmund had
only completed his twentieth year,) appeared more in the character of a
companion, than of one in authority ; he certainly interfered but little with
the amusements or wishes of his young charge, who not a little romantic
and enthusiastic, often left his friend absorbed in his books, and stole away
to enjoy the lovely scenery with which he was so enchanted, that he left no
spot, however difficult of access, unexplored.
On one of those sweet mellow days in September, when the varied tints of
autumn lend additional beauty to the wooded mountains, Edmund was
early on the lakes fishing. After much successful sport, he steered for
O' Sullivan's cascade, in order to see it to greater advantage after the heavy
rains of the two preceding days. The fall was magnificent; but not satisfied
with viewing it in the ordinary way, he determined to ascend the rocks and
look down on it from above. This fall is situated in a romantic glen between
the mountains of Glenaa and Toomish. Edmund had just reached the top,
when two more visitors approached, one of them an old gentleman, with
a lovely girl leaning on his. arm. They both stood enraptured, gazing on
the cataract, as it fell with deafening sound down the precipice, dashing its
white foam from rock to rock, until it reached the basin below, where it
seemed boiling in angry contact with the large granite stones which vainly
opposed its passage; The view was one of a grand and sublime character.
As additional figures to this landscape, two or three wild looking peasant
girls, barefooted, dark-haired, of sunburnt hue, were gathering nuts from
the surrounding wood. Our fab: heroine Rose, — "the Rose of Glenaa" (for the
new visitors were her uncle, and herself) — formed not the least beauti-
ful object in the wild scenery. As she stood enraptured, an object caught
her attention on one of the rocks above the cataract ; it soon became evident
to her, that a man was in the act of descending, holding by branches of
trees and low growing shrubs ; it was a perilous undertaking, and she
scarcely breathed, watching bis movements ; he came, after overcoming many
difficulties, within ten feet of the ground ; the descent here was still more
precarious, owing to the rocks and stones, rendered slippery from the spray
of the waters ; on one of those his feet gave way, and, the branches by which
he held yielding to his weight, he fell with a heavy splash into the roaring
torrents. The young man with the instinct of self-preservation, grasped a
shelving rock to which he clung, but the force of the water was so great,
that it was evident he could not long remain thus suspended. Rose, who had
been observing him with deep interest sprang forward in a moment, and
taking an arm of one of the nut-girls, made her hold by some shrubs, while
she took her other hand, then lightly stepping on one of the large stones
which projected into the water, she threw her scarf towards the young man,
who quickly caught it, and in this way supported him until the boatmen who
were loitering among the trees came to his assistance. It was soon found
that he had received but little injury, with the exception of a few bruises,
and a wet jacket. This ascertained, Rose drew back, and prepared to ac-
company her uncle to their boats. She deemed the service she had rendered
the stranger a very simple one, but he viewed it far differently, and in the
romantic enthusiasm of his disposition, he thanked her in the most fervent
manner. Perhaps her beauty might have somewhat enhanced his gratitude.
He begged to know the name of his fair guardian, and presented his card to
her uncle, requesting permission to call on both the following day.
A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNKY. 45
Edmund came, and a short time saw him a welcome guest at the old-
fashioned residence of Captain Fitzallan, whose boat was always in attend-
ance, as he took a proud pleasure in shewing the varied beauties of the lakes
(with which he was so familiar) to the young Englishman. Days flew by
unheeded ; at least the young people marked not their flight, and the old
man loved to see them happy.
Edmund believed the fairy tales of his childhood realized amidst those
scenes of enchantment, and forgot his fond mother and distant home in the
society of the lovely Irish girl, who in the artless confidence of youth trusted
her happiness to his keeping, and never for a moment doubted his truth.
They had exchanged mutual vows of love and constancy. No thought of
future ill shaded the sweet sunshine of their happiness, which was un ruined
as the bosom of the lake beneath the summer sky. Tis ever thus in the
bright and beautiful morning of existence, when every leaf of life is green,
when generous feelings swell the young heart, still true to nature— aye,
ever thus, before the world with artificial colouring spoils life's fresh-
ness. Alas ! that sorrow should cloud the brightness of that morning, chill
those generous feelings, leaving the heart a cheerless desert. Edmund
and Rose saw not the coming storm that threatened to separate them for
ever.
But we must now transfer the reader to a more distant and more worldly
scene.
There is an air of home-felt comfort and tranquil beauty, about most of
the English villages : their neat and comfortable cottages where peace and
plenty seem to dwell ; the pretty churches o'ertopping the hills ; the well
clad, well fed peasantry — all convey an idea of the benign influence, and
fostering care of good landlords who feel a noble pride in the prosperity of
their tenants, and wisely deem the protection they extend to them the true
bond of national union. It is this that reflects such high honour on the
landed gentry of England, and justly entitles them to the high station they
hold in then- native land. Near to one of those villages in a rich domain
rose in proud beauty the mansion of the Beaumonts. The family consisted of
Mr. Beaumont, his wife, and two sons, the younger of whom was his
mother's favourite, and our hero of the lakes.
Mrs. Beaumont was a proud haughty woman of strong feeling and preju-
dices, and had no idea of any one daring to oppose her will ; she deemed very
few worthy of aspiring to an alliance with her family, and had often declared
that her daughters-in-law should boast birth, wealth, and English lineage.
Edmund from his infancy had been the dearest object of her affections ;
his personal beauty and strong likeness to herself — his sweet disposition and
manly bearing, enhanced still more her fondness; as he grew up he
importuned his mother to allow him to enter the army, but from year to year
she tried to divert his thoughts from a military life, and at the period of 'this
tale she agreed to his making a little tour, hoping to drive the idea from his
mind by variety and change of scene. His tutor having consented to accom-
pany him, Edmund selected Ireland as the country he wished most to visit, and
though his mother had strong prejudices against the Irish, she did not like
to oppose him in every thing. This tutor who had some abstruse work in
hand which he intended publishing, did not much relish the Irish excursion,
but feared refusing the request made to him of accompanying Edmund, by
a family who had so much patronage to bestow, and to whom he already
owed so much ; he determined however, as the event proved, to be as little
restraint on Edmund as possible. Mr. Laurier, the tutor, when some short
46 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARXEY.
time at Killarney, found it necessary to go to Dublin, for a few days, in
order to refer to some books relative to the work he was about publishing-.
On his return he found Edmund had made a useful acquaintance in the
person of Captain Fitzallan. So matters rested, and weeks flew on in this way,
when at length Mr, Laurier thought it time to return to England, and was
quite astonished at the reluctance Edmund expressed, when the subject was
mentioned. Strange suspicions began to disturb the tutor's mind, and he de-
termined to observe his young friend closely ; he laid a&ide his books, and took
a boat the following morning to Captain Fitzallan's residence, where he was
hospitably received, and invited to remain the day. It was his first introduc-
tion to Rose, and he saw at once clearly the cause of Edmund's refusal to re-
turn home. A pang shot through his heart at the recollection of his own neg-
lect of the charge committed to his care. The only reparation he could make,
was to write to Mrs. Beaumont immediately, stating his apprehensions, and
requesting her to use her authority by recalling her son. Anger and jealousy,
(yes, jealousy that any one should rival her in her son's affections) filled the
mother's soul, and she was seized with a fit on reading the letter ; her life was
in imminent danger, and her medical attendants declared the least opposition
to her will would prove fatal. Edmund soon after received a letter from his
father, summoning him immediately home, as his mother was very ill and most
anxious to see him. The communication, however, suppressed the receipt of
Mr. Laurier's letter. Edmund who loved his mother fondly, determined to
obey. But how was he to part Rose, the confiding, artless, lovely girl, and
her warm-hearted uncle, who treated him with such ingenuous hospitality ?
He could have passed his life with them on the shore of that beautiful lake.
When should he meet Rose again? His mother's prejudices, his father's pride,
would separate them for ever. Could he prevail on her to become his wife,
he might by that endearing title, claim her hereafter ; his parents would in
time relent ; seventeen is not the age of prudence, particularly if the blessing
of maternal guardianship be wanting ; and Rose had never heard a mother's
warning voice, or known her gentle care.
Edmund had consented to accompany his tutor the following night in the
mail which left for Dublin, so that a few hours more and he should part Rose
perhaps for ever. Yet he, with all the eloquence of love, urged her to
become his wife before the bitter hour of separation ; he would arrange with
the clergyman to meet them at the little rustic chapel in the mountains, by
sun-rise the following morning. It was not very difficult to prevail on one
so young, so confiding, and inexperienced, to take this imprudent step ;
Edmund had a powerful, though silent advocate in the pleadings of his
gentle mistress's heart ; and she at length consented; but no sooner had
she done so, than she became affrighted at the idea of stealing from her
uncle's house at that early hour ; and disposing of her heart and hand without
either his knowledge or consent ; — there was ingratitude in the very thought,
and she shrank tremblingly from it. But Edmund declared "it would
ruin all their plans if her uncle even suspected them." She knew not how
to oppose his arguments, but yeilding, she was not happy. And who is ever
so when deaf to the silent monitor, the small still voice, within the bosom,
whose dictates of unerring truth lead to present peace, and eternal happiness ?
The young bride elect rose next morning at break of day ; Nora her faith-
ful attendant assisted at her simple toilette, and wrapping a cloak round her,
they both passed out of the house by a back door. The little chapel was
about half a mile distant in the mountains ; horses were prepared for them
to ride, and Paddy, the Captain's servant walked beside them. It was a
A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY. 47
grey autumnal morning in the beginning of October. The air was chill, and
a fresh breeze stirred the waters of the lake. Heavy vapours from the
Atlantic rested on the summit of the distant mountains. Rose felt the influence
of the atmosphere, and her heart beat with timid apprehension. When
they reached the little chapel, Edmund (who was already there) assisted
her to dismount, and, pressing her hand, whispered words of encouragement.
In a few moments the party stood within the rural temple, and in the
presence of the clergyman and their humble followers, Edmund and Rose
pledged their faith to each other for life. It appeared to Nora a very lone-
some dismal wedding, and she whispered to Paddy that she observed a
solitary magpie perch on some heath near the chapel door — " a very unlucky
sign," but she would not mention it to the mistress. Edmund had promised
to breakfast with Captain Fitzallan on that morning, the last of his visit to
Killamey; he therefore accompanied his fair bride on her return home.
The uncle was accustomed to his niece's habit of taking early rides, and
consequently she knew he would not be alarmed at her absence. The bridal
party quitted the rustic chapel : as they did so, the sun shone brightly on
the wild road before them ; the heavy vapours which shrouded the mountains
were floating fast away ; Rose's spirits revived beneath the smile of Heaven.
She thought the change auspicious, remembering the old adage " happy the
bride the sun shines on."
Rose was received by her unsuspecting uncle with his usual affection.
He noticed her silence, as she took her place at the breakfast table, but he
attributed it to the charitable visit he supposed she had been making to some
poor family that morning. Edmund tried to be gay, but it was an effort.
The old man looked alternately at each from time to time, until a thought sug-
gested itself that something unusual affected both, particularly Rose, who eat
not a morsel. At length he exclaimed, " My children what is the matter ?"
Rose, looking towards her uncle, found his eyes fixed on her ; their tender
expression touched the chord of affection in her bosom ; throwing herself
into his arms she wept like a child : concealment was no longer possible ;
and all was soon told ! The old man was fully convinced of the great im-
prudence they were guilty of, but it was foreign to his kind nature to
reproach those he loved, and how could he blame Edmund for preferring his
little Rose to all the girls he had ever known ? no one was wrong but
himself, and he declared he was an old fool not to have foreseen it. Not
long after this denouement, Mr. Laurier arrived ; his anger and disappoint-
ment may be imagined when he heard the events of the morning. How
should he break the news to Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont ? In liis vexation he
would scarcely speak to Edmund, whom he insisted should accompany him
at once to Dublin, showing him a letter he had received that day from
England, with very alarming accounts of his mother's health. Edmund took
a sad and tender farewell of his youthful bride, vowing eternal fidelity, and
promising to return the moment his mother was convalescent.
A few days brought him to his parent's side ; and she welcomed him with
the fondest affection. Her physicians had ordered change of climate and of
scene for the restoration of her health, and she declared her intention of
taking her son with her. This was a deathblow to Edmund's hopes ; he
avowed his marriage, and his determination to return to Ireland and claim his
wife. His mother's passions were roused at this intelligence, and she applied
to her husband to use his authority in breaking the marriage. Her son was
not of age ; and, according to the laws of England, it was illegal, the cere-
mony having only been performed by a Catholic clergyman. Every art
48 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY.
and persuasion were used to make Edmund a party to their wishes, but in
vain. Nothing therefore remained but to take him abroad, and prevent all
correspondence between him and "the artful Irish girl," as they called her.
Accordingly his mother and family removed to Italy. At first, Edmund was
in a state of irritability and sorrow ; his letters to Ireland were intercepted,
and those poor Rose wrote never reached him. His mother used all her
influence (and she had much) to divert his thoughts and affections. She
required his constant attendance, and introduced him into the best and most
attractive society ; he was very young, and by degrees he became less un-
happy, and entered into all the amusements which surrounded him. Rose's
silence at first pained him to the heart, but insensibly weaned his thoughts
from her. His military penchant again revived, and he entreated his father
and mother to get him a commission. Accordingly his father (his mother
no longer dissenting) wrote to Colonel L r a friend of his in London, to
procure one for Edmund as soon as possible. At this time they had been
two years in Italy, and his mother's health quite re-established ; they pre-
pared to return home.
But how did the young forsaken wife support the neglect of the faithless
wanderer ? Had she forgotten him ? Had she ceased to love him ? No !
such is not woman's nature. Woman worships to the last the idol of her
heart, though the beauty of the shrine be fled, leaving it a broken and deserted
ruin. Day after day, she awaited his promised letters, till at length wearied
with disappointment her spirits sank ; doubts of Edmund's truth were the last
to present themselves to her mind, but too soon they did come in all their
bitterness. Indignation at first swelled her gentle bosom, but tenderness
and love soon resumed their place, and left her mourning over the past in
fruitless sorrow. It almost broke her fond uncle's heart to see his sweet
Rose evidently drooping, her cheek so pale, — her eyes dim with tears, — the
music of her voice hushed to silence, — her health rapidly declining. She
was a blighted flower fading away even in the morning of spring. The
physician (an old friend of her uncle's) whom he called on to attend her,
could not minister to a mind diseased. He recommended change of air
and scene as absolutely necessary to arrest, if possible, the malady which
threatened her. Her uncle had some military friends in Plymouth, and
thither he purposed going, for a while, and trying the effects of the southern
climate of England on his beloved child. Those only, who have felt the
lingering death of hope, and the soul sickening pangs of suspense, can know
how surely they undermine health and strength.
The wound poor Rose had received from him she loved, sank festering
deeply into her bosom. The solitude of her mountain home, and the seclu-
sion in which she lived, were calculated to preserve in their first freshness the
tender and confiding feelings of her bosom, which intercourse with the heart-
less world but too often wither and destroy. Her restoration therefore to
health and happiness, were beyond the reach of art, which may occasionally
alleviate suffering, but can never triumph over nature.
The Beaumont family had been some months re-established in their
English home, where they were welcomed by their happy prosperous ten-
antry. Edmund had been gazetted immediately on his return, and his
military ardour was likely to be put to the test. His regiment in a very
short time was ordered out to India. His mother was in despair, and urged
him to sell out, but he would not listen to such a proposal. Fear of the
Irish connection was ever before his father's mind ; and, of the two, he pre-
ferred that which in his prejudiced opinion was the lesser evil. All was
A RECOLLECTION OF KILLAKNEY. 49
preparation for Edmund's departure ; he took a most affecting and tender
leave of his family and of his mother in particular, whom he fondly loved.
He was to join his brother officers at Plymouth, from whence they were to
sail. The day after his arrival at that port, as he passed through part of
the town, which commands a view of the sea, his attention was attracted by
a female figure sitting at a window of one of the houses ; her cheek rested
on her hand, which thus shaded her face ; but the outline of the head, with
its drapery of golden ringlets falling round it, and the elegance of the slight
delicate figure in the stillness of its attitude, reminded him of a face and form
he once loved in all the pride of health and beauty. His heart throbbed
at the recollection, and he stood transfixed. Slowly the lady turned to gaze
on the sea. Oh ! what remorse filled his soul, as the present shadowy like-
ness of the former fair original met his view. The bright colouring of the
morning bloom was gone ; the hue of death had replaced it. Alas ! how
changed ! Yet she was still the same. Edmund's frame trembled ; his brain
seemed on fire. In the impetuosity of youth, he sought admittance
to the house, and rushing into the drawing-room where she sat, caught
the faded form of his deserted wife in his arms, pressing her cold lips, and
calling her by every endearing title. But she heard him not. Unexpected
joy is often as oppressive as sorrow. It proved too much for Rose, in her
delicate state of health, and ere she could pronounce her husband's name
she had fainted. He rang for assistance : the uncle, and Nora appeared.
It is vain to attempt describing Edmund's feelings of shame and remorse,
as he once more met the kind-hearted old captain. He could only say that
he had come to make reparation for all the sorrow he had caused him, and
his lovely niece. The old man looking towards her inanimate form, shook
his head sorrowfully, and the tears trembled on his eye-lids. Nora's resto-
ratives recalled Rose to consciousness. Her eyes immediately turned to-
wards Edmund, who knelt beside her. As she met his returning glance of
affection, she seemed to gain strength. Her physician (who had been sent
for) and her uncle would not then permit any explanation likely to excite
her, but in a few days all was told, and Edmund forgiven. In her uncle's
presence, he and Rose were again united, according to the rites of the
Church of England, and the young husband determined that nothing but
death should again separate them. Yet, how could she undergo all the
difficulties of a long voyage, in her precarious state of health ? The troops
were under sailing orders in a few days, and he must accompany them. How
leave her ? The physicians declared it might cost her life to take her to sea,
in her very weak state, and at that time of the year. Edmund could not
oppose them. He and poor Rose were again doomed to part, but it was
arranged that she should follow in the latter end of May, three months
after his departure, under the protection of an experienced captain and his
wife. As long as Edmund remained, Rose seemed to improve in health.
The lustre of her eye brightened ; the colour on her cheek returned in greater
loveliness ; but darkness was beneath that light, and death beneath that
bloom. Treacherous consumption ever cheating the hopes of love, preyed
on the young victim, while decking her with beauty for the grave.
Edmund was at length forced to go, and after the sad parting, hope still
fluttered in the young wife's bosom, sustaining her fast fleeting existence.
Her uncle promised to follow her and Edmund to India, but was now
obliged to return to Ireland in order to dispose of his property. He there-
fore, on a beautiful morning in the latter end of May, committed his beloved
child to the protection of the captain and his wife, who promised to consider
VOL. IV. NO. XV, E
50 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLA.RNEY.
her as their own, until they restored her to her husband. Poor Rose for
some time seemed to revive, under the influence of the sea air and voyage,
and her kind friends began to trust she might recover ; but it was a false
hope. By degrees she daily grew weaker. One lovely evening in the middle
of June, they carried her to a sofa placed for her on deck. She had been
more than usually weak that day, and they hoped the freshness of the
evening breeze might revive her. The captain's wife took a seat by her
side. Her breathing was short and hurried, yet she did not appear to suffer
much. The sun was just then setting, the horizon appeared on fire lit up by
its golden rays. As it sank to rest on the waters, Rose raised herself with
much difficulty from her reclining posture to gaze for a moment on its part-
ing light, which she had ever loved to contemplate, when it beamed at sum-
mer eve on all the matchless beauties of her distant home. The efforts, or
the feelings uVexcited, proved too much for her, and she fell back exhausted
on the couch : it was soon evident to her anxious friends, that the tide of life
was fast ebbing from her bosom. She looked expressively at them, then
raising her eyes to Heaven, and breathing a fervent prayer, the stillness of
death stole over her lovely features, proclaiming too truly that life's short
voyage was at an end. The bright sun had set on her for ever. No church
bell tolled for her, no prayers were chaunted. The cold ocean was her
grave; the wild cry of the sea birds was her funeral dirge, and the morning
breeze, as it crested the wave, breathed a requiem to her departed spirit.
One year after this sad event, and the Beaumont family mourned the death
of their youngest son. He had fallen in the service of his country.
Captain Fitzallan survived his beloved niece but a few months ; he sleeps
amidst the beautiful ruins of Mucruss Abbey.
ROYAL AUTOGRAPHS.
HENRY the Eighth wrote a strong hand, but as if he had seldom a good
pen. " The vehemence of his character," says D'Israeli, " convey itself
into his writing; — bold, hasty, and commanding'. I have no doubt that the
assertor of the Pope's supremacy, and its redoubted opponent, split many a
good quill." The autograph of the mild and feminine Edward VI. is fair,
flowing, and legible ; and that of Queen Elibabeth, stiff, firm, arid elabo-
rate, written in a large, tall character, and with very upright letters,
denoting asperity and ostentation. Her ill-fated sister queen, poor Mary
Stuart, wrote elegantly, though usually in uneven lines ; in a style indica-
tive of simplicity, softness, and amiability. James I. wrote an ungainly
scrawl, all awry, and careless ; strongly marking the personal negligence he
carried into all the affairs of life. The first Charles's was a fair, open,
Italian hand, most correctly formed ; and his successor, the witty monarch's
volatile, heedless, restless character, is not incorrectly exhibited in his little
pretty running hand, scribbled, as it were, in haste and impatience. The
phlegmatic temper and matter- of-business habits of James II. are evinced
in his large commercial autograph; and Queen Anne's commonplace
character, in her good, commonplace handwriting.
51
THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT
BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
Castle Coole, co.
SEAT OF THE KARL OF BELMORE.
THIS noble residence of the Earls of Belmore is about a mile distant
from Enniskillen, on the banks of the fair Lake Erne. The approach
from the town affords a fine prospect of a picturesque sheet of water,
studded with a vast number of islands — all of them green, and many of
sufficient size to afford pasturage to flocks and herds. I know no part
of Ireland more interesting than this country. In scenery, in historical
fame, and modern improvement, it rivals every country in Europe. Mr.
and Mrs. Hall, in their work on Ireland, must be regarded as good
judges, having seen and observed closely almost the whole of the United
Kingdom, and, speaking of this locality, remark, " It is, however, to the
grace and grandeur of Nature that we desire to direct the attention of
our readers. Travel where they will, in this singularly beautiful neigh-
bourhood, lovers of the picturesque will have rare treats at every step.
It is impossible to exaggerate in describing the surpassing loveliness of
the whole locality. How many thousands there are, who, if just ideas
could be conveyed to them of its attractions, would make their annual
tour hither instead of up the " hackneyed and sodden Rhine," infinitely
less rich in natural graces, far inferior in the studies of character it yields,
and much less abundant in all the enjoyments that can recompense the
traveller ! Nothing in Great Britain — perhaps nothing in Europe — can
surpass in beauty the view along the road that leads into Enniskillen.
Now, without drawing any invidious comparison between Lough Erne and
the Rhine, I must say that I think it a shame so many of our Irish tourists
will, year after year, betake themselves abroad, leaving unknown and un-
noticed the equally charming natural beauties of their own green Isle. Is
it because it is their own they despise it ? How true the remark — " What
we have we prize not at its worth," and no stronger instance exists than
the fact of Lough Erne, the Blackwater in Munster, and other scenes,
the subject of delight and encomium to the strangers who visit them
from other lands, being hardly known as places worth the trouble of
looking at to the inhabitants of Ireland, and seldom sought by the tourist.
Let it be our pleasing task to call attention to these neglected scenes —
to guide the native footstep thither — to awaken an interest for Ireland
in the breasts of Irishmen of all shades and classes, and make them at
length feel they have a common country, and as we are essentially an
aristocratic people, no where can this be so appropriately carried out
than in the pages of the Patrician.
Castle Coole is a mansion of regular uniform style. The elegance of
the design, the scale of magnificence observed in the internal arrange-
ments, and the singular beauty of its surrounding scenery, must render
it an object of admiration to every age. The house consists of a square
centre with extensive wings, along the centre of which runs a facade
supported by Tastun pillars, and the whole being of Portland stone be-
E 2
52 »CASTLE COOLK.
speak the pure and elegant simplicity which marked the designs of Pa-
ladio. A graceful approach leads nearly round the mansion, and as it
traverses the wide spread lawns, rich and varied plantations meet the
sight. The park is profusely supplied with trees, some dotting the verdant
mead in single piles, others grouped in clumps. Numerous lakes, some of
great extent — bearing wooded islets on their grassy bosoms, diversify tree
and field. I never witnessed a greater profusion of water fowl; birds of
every kind that haunt the stream held revelry as I passed. The offices,
also faced with Portland stone, form a neat and well ordered quadrangle
not far from the mansion. The view from the hall door looking over a
great extent of country, is one scene of striking and enchanting loveli-
ness.
The family is of Scottish extraction. John Lowry, a native of Scot-
land, having emigrated to this part of the British dominions towards the
close of the 17th century settled at Ahenis in the county Tyrone.. As
might have been expected he took part with the supporters of William
of Nassau, during the civil wars of 1688 — 9, and had the misfortune to
lose his wife during the dreadful privations which the garrison, besieged
within the walls of Londonderry, experienced. Several of his descend-
ants represented the county Tyrone in the Irish House of Commons, and,
on 6th January 1781, Armar Lowry, Esq. M.P., was elevated to the
Peerage of Ireland as Baron Belmore of Castle Coole, on which occa-
sion he assumed the name and arms of Corry. Another branch of this
family is seated at Pomeroy House, represented by Robert William
Lowry, Esq.* The Earldom of Belmore was conferred by creation 5th
Nov. 1797. The present earl is a minor, having lately succeeded his la-
mented father.
Before leaving Enniskillen, 1 paid a visit to a very astonishing island
in Lake Erne — Devenish or Daim Inis, signifying the Island of the Ox,
in Latin it was called Bovis Insula, I conclude from the number of
these animals that were accustomed to browse on the grass which grows
so luxuriantly. It contains about eighty acres, and was the chosen seat
of religion and learning in days of yore. The first abbey is said to have
been founded here as early as A.D. 563 by St. Laserian. The Danes
frequently plundered the monastery. Over the altar of the church is a
richly ornamented window, and near it on a tablet built in the wall is the
following inscription in very rude raised characters.
Mattheus O'Dubigan hoc opus fecit
Bartholameo O'Flanagan Priori de Daminio 1449. -
The O'Flanagans — Lords of Tura — Tuath Ratha, i.e. the District of
the Fortress, had considerable possessions along the borders of Lake Erne,
comprising at one time, the whole of the present Barony of Maghero-
boy, but sharing the fortunes of their chief king and kinsman, Maguire
Prince of Fermanagh, lost the whole of those estates by repeated con-
fiscations. On the Island of Devenish is one of the most perfect round
towers It is built of hewn stone, each about a foot square. The
conical roof having been endangered by a small tree growing out of the
slight interstices, caused some repairs requisite which were executed with
great skill, and this memento of the days of old restored to its pristine
state.
* Burke's Commoners, vol. iii. p. 140.
KILKENNY CASTLE. 53
Btlfmtnp Castle.
SEAT OF THE MARQUIS ORMOND.
How full of solemn feudality is Kilkenny Castle ! Striking at once both
mental and bodily vision, for its site is not only majestic and grand,
loftily towering over
The stubborn Neure, whose waters grey —
By fair Kilkenny and Ross-ponte borde,
but the venerable walls, and antique bastions speak of historical associa-
tions with which they are intimately connected, and the interest is excited
by the magnitude of the incidents which occurred here.
It dates with the arrival of the English in this country, and, though
the revolution of ages have effected changes in the possessions, and re-
cent improvements and alterations have swept away traces of the honour-
able wounds which the implements of war, and time dealt on the fortress,
legend, and ballad, and chronicle has preserved its history. The original
castle is said to have been built by Strongbow, and subsequently de-
stroyed by the Irish shortly after its erection ; but the place was deemed
too important to be left defenceless, for we find in A.D. 1 1Q5, a spacious and
noble castle arose from the ruins. In a military point of view, (no trifling
object in those days) the situation was most eligible. The castle was
built on a lofty mound, one side steep and precipitous, with the rushing
Nore sweeping round its base. To this natural rampart was added a
wall of solid masonry, forty feet high. The other parts were defended
by bastions, curtains, towers, and outworks. The area thus inclosed
contained the donjon and main keep, inhabited by the distinguished owner
William, Lord Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, and a caserne for a strong
garrison. In 1391 it came by purchase into the present noble family-
having been bought by James Butler, third Earl of Ormond, a descendant
of Theobald Walter, a great favourite of Henry II., who made him large
grants in his newly acquired Irish territory. He filled the office of Chief
Butler of Ireland, which became hereditary, and the surname of the
family. As our space would not admit our dwelling on the numerous
important events which these walls have witnessed, as indeed few Chap-
ters of the History of Ireland omit some record of transactions in which
Kilkenny Castle bears a part, we proceed to give a brief notice of its
present appearance.
Its situation, close by the Nore, is of extreme beauty. The elevation
is considerable and affords an extensive view, as the castle overlooks the
city, and the sight can follow the windings of the river, through many a
verdant meadow, shady grove, and well- planted lawn. The river is
clear and bright, and the city has the advantage of permitting an uninter-
rupted prospect, boasting of water without mud, air without fog, and
fire without smoke. So that when the eye is sated with gazing on the
reaches of the clear sparkling river, now glancing along fair meadowy
niches, and anon lost between high wooded banks, it can wander over
spire and gable of the city, and here wrapt in the quiet of the lordly
dwelling, the visitor listens to the hum of the busy- bustling crowd, who
urge their laborious callings in every variety of city life.
The castle is approached from the town, and a long range of offices
54 KILKENNY CASTLE.
are on the right hand. Neither the style of architecture in which they
are built, nor the entrance, is in accordance with the rest of the castle.
This is the more striking from the proximity to the venerable walls.
The recent buildings are in the best taste, and well executed. Some
basso-relievos are finely sculptured. We went through many of the
rooms not remarkable of size, but convenient and affording pleasing
views of the country round. There has, however, been recently com-
pleted, a splendid picture gallery, about 150 feet in length. This con-
tains a great collection of paintings. The belles, the wits, the courtiers,
and courtezans of the Merry Monarch are here congregated, and the
sight is dazzled by the gorgeous blaze of beauty, and dress, depicted by
Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfry Kneller, until the weariness of excess of
glare is relieved by the sober colouring of Vandyke, or the religious ten-
derness of Carlo Dolci. Here are kings and Queens in all their pomp,
King Charles I. and his unhappy queen ;^King Charles II., King James
II., Queen Mary, Queen Anne, Royal Family, by Vandyke, Duchess of
Richmond, by Sir Godfry Kneller, with portraits of various members of
the Ormond family, scripture pieces, landscapes, flowers, mingled with
saints and sinners, gay knights and grave senators, a motly and distin-
guished array. What food for meditation is here for the imaginative mind ?
What tales these silent beings could tell were the canvass animated ?
Here are kings who, during their career on earth, experienced all the
vicissitudes of fortune, the privations that afflict the meanest subject,
hunger and poverty, and terror of enemies, and loss of friends and for-
tune. One was exiled, another dethroned, another beheaded. Here are
youthful beauties radiant in smiles and charms, who lived till these
smiles ceased to captivate, and these charms to win admiration. What
feelings are aroused by the sad fate of many a proud noble here standing
clad in his peer's robes. The battle field witnessed the death throes of
some, the sod of a foreign land covered the bones of others. And now
their fame and their fate lives but in the vague legend and a few feet of
painted canvass. I lingered amidst these frail memorials of greatness
until the shadows of evening deepened the gloom of the old towers.
The sun sank gorgeously into a cradle of golden rays, pillowed by downy
clouds of dazzling whiteness. The Nore hymned a vesper song as the
stars shone out, and the hour was meet for reminiscences of the past.
There floated before us visions of the former owners, the Anglo-Norman
invaders, the fierce conflicts with the Irish Chiefs, the rivalry between the
Butlers andFitz Geralds of- Desmond; the feuds that existed between these
Irish Guelphs and Ghibellins are celebrated in the annals of Ireland.
Once we are told a reconciliation was effected, and the leaders agreed to
shake hands j but they took the precaution of doing so through an aper-
ture in an oaken door, each fearing to be poniarded by the other ! After
the battle of Affane, on the banks of the Blackwater, the Fitz Geralds
were repulsed, and their chieftain" made prisoner. While weak from loss
of blood, the victors were bearing him on their shoulders, and the Lord
of Ormond triumphantly exclaimed " Where now is the great Earl of
Desmond ?" " Here," replied the Lord Gerald, " now in his proper
place, still on the necks of the Butlers."
" The antiquity of this family," says Burke,* " is indisputable } but
whence it immediately derived its origin is not so clearly established. Its
* Peerage.
KILKENNY CASTLE. >
surname however, admits of no doubt as springing from the chief butler-
age of Ireland, conferred by Henry II. on Theobold Fitzwalter in 117?."
We find various descendants of Theobold sitting in the Parliaments of the
Pale, and filling high offices, Lords Justices, &c. The Earldom of
Ormond was granted to James Butler in 1328, by creation of King Ed-
ward III. James, third Earl, purchased the Castle of Kilkenny from the
heirs of Sir Hugh le de Spencer, Earl of Gloucester in 1391, which has
since been the principal seat of this family. The representatives of the
House of Ormond were not alone distinguished by their pride of ancestry
and martial deeds. Many of the Earls of Ormond were famed for a love
of literature and extent of learning, quite remarkable in their time. We
need not refer to higher authority than the compliment Edward IV.
paid to the demeanour and conduct of John, the sixth Earl. " If good
breeding and liberal qualities were lost in the world, they might be all
found in the Earl of Ormonde." In a note to Hall's Ireland, vol. ii., is a
curious letter stated to have been the reply of a very loyal man, Sir Piers
Butler, Earl of Ossory, in answer to a proposal of the Earl of Kildare,
that the two houses should unite their forces, take Ireland from the
dominion of Henry VIII., and divide it between them. The Earl of
Kildare to have one moiety, Earl of Ossory and his son Lord James
Butler the other. " Taking pen in hand to write to you my absolute
answer, I muse in the first line by what name to call you— my lord, or
my cousin, — seeing that your notorious treason hath impeached your
loyalty and honour, and your desperate lewdness hath shamed your
kindred. You are, by your expressions, so liberal in parting stakes with
me, that a man would weene you had no right to the game j" and so im-
portunate for my company, as if you would persuade me to hang with
you for good-fellowship. And think you, that James is so bad as to
gape for gudgeons, or so ungracious as to sell his truth and loyalty for
a piece of Ireland ? Were it so (as it cannot be) that the chickens you
reckon were both hatched and feathered ; yet be thou sure, I had rather
in this quarrel die thine enemy than live thy partner. For the kindness
you proffer me, and goodwill, in the end of your letter, the best way I
can propose to requite you, that is, in advising you, though you have
fetched your fence, yet to look well before you leap over. Ignorance,
error, and a mistake of duty hath carried you unawares to this folly, not
yet so rank, but it may be cured. The king is a vessel of mercy and
bounty j your words against his majesty shall not be counted malicious,
but only bulked out of heat and impotency ; except yourself by heaping
of offences discover a mischievous and wilful meaning. Farewell."
The descendants of so straightforward a subject should partake of his
spirit, and a hatred of court favourites appears a distinguishing feature
in the characters of the Butlers. In Carte's life of the Duke of Ormond,
we find the hostility of the Earl Thomas to Queen Elizabeth's minion,
the Earl of Leicester, not confined to language. He used often tell her
Majesty in plain terms that Leicester was a villain and a coward. Com-
ing one day to Court he met Leicester in the anti-chamber who bidding
him good-morrow said, "My lord of Ormonde, I dreamed of you last
night." " What could you dream of me ?" asked Ormonde. " I dreamed,"
says the other, " that I gave you a box on the ear." "Dreams," an-
swered the Earl, "are to be interpreted by contraries j" and, without
more ceremony, gave Leicester a hearty cuff on the ear. He was upon
this sent to the Tower, but shortly after liberated.
56 KILKENNY CASTLE.
The next instance of courage which tradition preserves, is related of
James, afterwards Duke of Ormond, while yet a very young man about
twenty-two years of age. He went to attend the Parliament in Dublin sum-
moned by Wentworth, Lord Lieutenant to Charles I. The Lord Deputy
had issued a proclamation forbidding any member of either house to enter
with his sword. As the Earl of Ormond was passing the door of the
House of Peers, the Usher of the Black Rod required his sword. The
request being treated with silent contempt. He demanded it peremptorily,
whereupon the Earl replied, "If he had his sword, it should be in his body,
and haughtily strode to his seat. The Lord Deputy summoned the re-
fractory Peer before the Privy Council, and called on him to answer for
his conduct : upon which, Lord Ormond said he acted under the oath of
his investiture, that he received his title to attend Parliament cum gladio
cinatus." The ability and courage of the young noble obtained him great
applause, and the Deputy perceived he had better conciliate his friend-
ship, than provoke his enmity. He accordingly heaped favours upon
him ; made him a Privy Councillor at the age of twenty-five. This lord
was the father of one of the purest characters of that, or any age — the Earl
of Ossory. Of him was it truly said — " His virtue was unspotted in the
centre of a luxurious court j his integrity unblemished amid all the vices
of the times j his honour intainted through the course of his whole life."
" His Majesty," exclaimed Evelyn, on hearing of his death, " never lost
a worthier subject, nor father a better or more dutiful son : a loving,
generous, good natured and perfectly obliging friend — one who had done
innumerable kindnesses to several before they knew it j nor did he ever
advance any who were not worthy j no one more brave, more modest j
none more humble, sober, and every way virtuous. Unhappy England !
in this illustrious person's loss. What shall I add ? He deserves all
that a sincere friend, a brave soldier, a virtuous courtier, a loyal subject,
an honest man, a bountiful master, and a good Christian, could deserve
of his prince and country."
How affecting to turn from this fine panegyric, traced by the hand
of generous friendship, revealing the peculiar excellent qualities of the
deceased, and particularising each, to the passionate burst of grief j
in which the bereaved Duke must have indulged, when the heir of his
house lay a corpse before him ; and what depth of feeling and sublime
appreciation of the inestimable loss is contained in his reply to some ex-
pression of condolence — " I would not exchange my dead son for any
living son in Christendom." Surely, such an instance of genuine regard for
the illustrious dead must be remembered with pride by their descendants !
How well the Earl of Ossory deserved the praise bestowed on him, and
the universal grief felt at his death, may be seen from the following
anecdote, which exhibits, strong filial piety and fearlessness of Court
favourites which the King's presence could not restrain. Not long after
the celebrated attempt of Blood to kill the Duke of Ormond, in which he
had nearly succeeded, being on his way with him to Tyburn, where he
resolved the Duke should hang, when he was rescued, the Earl of Ossory
met the Duke of Buckingham, who was universally beloved, the instiga-
tor and protector of Blood, in the royal chamber, and thus addressed him
while behind the King's chair. " My lord, I know well that you are at
the bottom of this late attempt of Blood's upon my father j and therefore I
give you fair warning, if my father comes to a violent death by sword or
pistol, if he does by the hand of a ruffian, or the more secret way of poison,
KILKENNY CASTLE. 57
I shall not be at a loss to know the real author of it. I shall consider
you as the assassin, I shall treat you as such, and I shall pistol you, though
you stood behind the King's chair ; and I tell it you in his Majesty's
presence, that you may be sure I will keep my word."
But we must bid adieu to this noble house. The present Marquis,
born in 1808, came to the title on the death of his father in 1 838 j he
is married to a daughter of General, the Hon. Sir Edward Paget, G.C.B. ,
and it is to his taste and perseverance the Castle of Kilkenny owes its
improved condition. We might suggest an alteration in the entrance, to
preserve the harmony of the structure, which is unquestionably one of
the most striking of our Irish Castles and Mansions.
SONG OF THE CAPTIVE ROBBER.
FROM THE RUSSIAN.
Hush ! hush ! green forest, cease to pour
Thy murmurs on mine ear :
Thy voice, which I may hear no more,
Speaks sadly of the days of yore,
Troubling my wandering thoughts with fear ;
And on the morrow I must stand
Before the mighty Tzar, with blood-stain'd hand !
The terrible Tzar will say to me,
" Answer me well, my child !
And be thy heart from terror free —
Son of a peasant ! tell to me,
Who in the forest lone and wild,
Were joined with thee in lawless strife,
The chosen comrades of thy robber-life ?"
And I will answer, " mighty Tzar !
The truth now deign to know :
Companions four had I, O Tzar !
The darksome night — my scimitar —
My trusty steed — my bended bow —
These were my four companions, Sire ;
My messengers — darts hardened in the fire !"
Then will the Christian Tzar reply :
" Honour to thee, my son !
Who brav'st the law so fearfully,
Yet know'st to speak so craftily :
A high reward well hast thou won,
For lo ! a palace waits thee on the plain —
A stately gibbet, and a hempen chain !"
J. L. ELLBRTON.
58
THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.
No. III.— THE CLASSIC SCHOOL.
FRANCE perhaps, even more than other nations which can boast of ages
of civilization and greatness, has among its people, large and important
bodies who cling with unalterable devotion to the feelings, manners and
customs, of distinct and different periods. Thus do the advocates of
the dethroned house of Bourbon invariably adopt the style and senti-
ment which characterised the courts of Louis the Great, and his un-
fortunate descendants. Thus too, there are many who to this day, in
sorrow be it said, assume the bearing, and ape the antics of the hideous
French republic. How dearly also do the JBonapartists attach themselves
to the pompous fashion and grandiloquent tone of their brief, but mag-
nificent empire ; for, with them,
Caesar, thou art mighty yet :
Thy spirit walks abroad.
It is rather singular that the classic drama happens to be alike accept-
able to royalist, republican, and imperialist. The supporter of the
ancient regime fondly cherishes the school formed by the Corneilles and
Racines of his boasted Ludovican age. The Girondist, or Terrorist,
regards the classic stage as the best means of bringing to present and
perspicuous view, the form and features of those Greek and Roman
commonwealths, which the revolutionary party so viciously, and miser-
ably endeavoured to copy. Again, the theatres of ancient Greece and
Rome were in accordance with the amplified state and proud existence
of a conqueror, whose models were Caesar and Alexander. Indeed,
during the continuance of Napoleon's sway, the classic drama was so
popular, that the taste went to excess, and plays became the mere
vehicles of cold, tedious and bombastic declamation. The Romantic
school therefore had to contend against the fixed prejudices of these
three parties, which it could never overcome. Its eminent success
was with the rest of the people j but the classic drama still retained
its hold upon a portion of the public. There were authors who wrote
for it, and audiences who came to applaud it. Yet it would probably
have followed the political decline of its favourers, and have sunk into
very infrequent representation, or entire disuse, but for the appearance
of an actress whose great genius has effected, for a time, the complete
restoration of the classic stage. Mile. Rachel has revived Corneille,
and Racine, and rendered popular their modern imitators. This heroine
of the Theatre Fran£ais resembles in personal dignity and grace, the
master statues of antiquity : her mind is also with the ancients. Sub-
dued by her wondrous art, the romancists themselves come once more
to contemplate and to sympathize with the sorrows of Andromache, or
the wrongs of the sister of Horatius. The writings of the classic drama
are again in the ascendant. Among the more modern classic authors,
the principal of later, or actual existence, are Laharpe, Chenier,Lemercier,
THE DRAMA OF MODERN FUANCE. 59
Ducis, Delavigne, Guiraud, Soumet and Latour. The "Philoctete"
of Laharpe is a scholar-like and faithful imitation of a Grecian play.
The Sieurs Chenier and Lemercier, (the latter afterwards deserted the
classic cause) are eminent as poets, but as dramatists are now little
thought of ; their works, such as " Tiberius," " Clovis," " Agamemnon,"
are not, we believe, patronized by Mile. Rachel. Guiraud is the author
of the tragedies of " Les Machabees," and " Compte Julien,*' and others
of more than passing merit. Ducis converted the plays of Shakespeare
into classic dramas, and mainly owed his success to the acting of Talma.
The reputation of Casimir De La Vigne is too well established to allow
his works to be passed over, without more comment and consideration.
M. De La Vigne is really a fine poet, and his writings frequently display
much of elegant diction, and exquisite pathos. Unlike his romantic
rivals, he never verges beyond the bounds of purity and propriety ;
indeed this is a virtue common to most authors of his school. De
La Vigne's four great tragedies, are " Don Juan d'Autriche," " Les En-
fans d'Edouard," " Les Vepres Siciliennes," and "Le Paria." We prefer
the two latter, and therefore would especially notice them. " Les Vepres
Siciliennes," as its name announces, takes for plot that terrible massacre
and extermination of the French, which occurred at Palermo, in 1282,
and which has obtained the appellation of "The Sicilian Vespers."
The famous John of Procida, the instigator of the revolt, is introduced
upon the scene, and his stern and determined character is well pourtrayed.
The nature of the subject is however, little suited to the unity of time
and place which a classic dramatist is obliged to observe. Instead of
having, as in a Shakesperian play, the events of the fearful insurrection
vividly presented to the audience, the story entirely depends on the
descriptive accounts given by the various persons of the drama. Some
of these narratives are, however, told with spirit, especially that of the
heroine's confidant, Elfrida, who has witnessed the commencement of
the massacre in the church of Palermo. Her relation is as follows j but
of course the reader must make due allowance for the injury done to the
original verse, by a translation into English prose.
Elfrida. " I slowly ascended the steps of the sanctuary, still strewed
with flowers and sacred branches. The people, prostrated under those
ancient arches, had begun to sing; the psalms of the prophet-king, when
a terrible sound shook the temple. The doors moved suddenly on their
hinges. They opened. Aged men, distracted women, priests and
soldiers who besieged the outlets, the former pursued, the latter threaten-
ing, the whole rushing against each other, burst over the threshold in
multitudes. From mouth to mouth, fly the words ' War to Tyrants.'
Priests repeat them with a savage look : children even respond. I
wish to fly, but suddenly this increasing torrent closes the path. Our
conquerors, whom a profane and rash love had to their destruction
assembled at the foot of the sanctuary, calm though surprised, hear, with-
out fear, the tumultuous cries of the enraged mob. Their swords glitter ;
numbers increase their courage. A cavalier rushes forward, opens a
passage ; he advances with precipitation. All yield to the strength of his
arm : the dispersed ranks make way for him. He offers himself to their
blows, without helmet or armour. ' It is Montfort/ they cry. To that
shout succeeded u long murmur. ' Aye, traitors/ he exclaimed, ' my name
alone, is a barrier to you. Fly from hence !' He spoke thus indignant — •
pale with wrath, and waved in the air his formidable sword, still reeking
60 THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.
with the blood in which he had steeped it — he strikes at the mob. An
emissary from the Divinity would have seemed less terrible to the
affrighted people. But Procida appears, and the stupified multitude
reassured by his voice, precipitate themselves forward, and surround
Montford. Loredan forced on by the parental authority of Procida, fol-
lows him speechless with dismay. I saw our citizens, worked up by
their fury, massacre each other, and they did so in the name of their
country; I even heard the priest, as he stumbled over the ruins made by
the havoc, a cross in his hand, utter curses, while he slew. The cries of
the victors and the vanquished, are confounded together ; the echoes from
subterranean tombs respond. The fate of the conflict still rests in suspense,
when night overshadows us with its wings of darkness. I lose my
way among the assassins, and in uncertainty I seek the palace. I pro-
ceed stealthily. Oh ! what heaps of dead and dying ! Is another day
to cast its light over that horrible picture ? May the sun avoid us. May
this sanguinary night hide from the whole world, the crimes it has en-
gendered."
The "Paria1' is among the most popular of M. de laVigne's plays,
and is, we think, his most graceful production. The scene of this tragedy
is at Benares in India, among the Bramins. The story is this :
Idamoro, one of the outcast people called Parias, has quitted, in search
of worldly adventure and advancement, his father, by whom he is ten-
derly beloved. He becomes a great warrior with the Bramin nation,
and their leader in a hundred victorious battles. The fact of his being
a Paria is unknown to them, and their high priest Akbar resolves to give
him for wife his daughter, Neala, whose affection Idamoro has already
secretly won. Unwilling to deceive his mistress, when about to wed
her, Idamoro announces to her his belonging to a tribe that is accursed.
She is at first horrified, but her love at length prevails, and she still
consents to espouse him. As the nuptials are about to take place,
Idamoro's aged father, Zares, comes in search of his long lost son : he
discovers him in the successful conqueror, and implores him to return
with him to their own country,[to prevent his dying of grief. Idamoro
promises to do so, but unable to quit his bride, he delays and permits
the wedding to proceed, on Ne*ala's agreeing to fly with them when it is
over. In the mean time Zares is recognized as a Paria, is seized, and
about to be put to death, when Idamoro declares himself a Paria also, and
offers himself in the place of his father as a greater victim. The indig-
nant and enraged Bramins accept the proposal. Idamoro is led to
execution, but, while on the way thither, he and his constant companion
Alvar, a Portuguese Christian, whom he has captured, and made his de-
voted friend, are stoned to death by the people. Ne*ala, on hearing his
fate avows her previous knowledge of his being a Paria, and she is sen-
tenced to banishment : she departs with the aged Zares, whom she
determines to accompany to his own home in lieu of the son he has lost.
The whole of this tragedy is very skilfully constructed, according to
classic rules. The language is throughout poetic, and some parts dis-
play great spirit and harmony. The deaths of Idamoro and his Christian
friend Alvar, are finely described : the following is the literal translation
of the passage.
THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE. 6l
"The people rush forward to demand their prey, mingling cries of fury
with shouts of joy. Idamoro appears haughty, yet his look is serene j
he divides the crowd, walks majestically among them, and seems still to
lead us, and to exhibit within our walls, as in the days of his glory, the
pride of victory. His friend, that captive foeman tolerated amongst us
as long as the unworthy chieftain himself beheld us at his feet — the
Christian Alvar, who awaited him, rushes to his side. We take our
ranks in mournful silence, whilst the Christian, prolonging his adieux,
importuned our looks with a scene of blameable compassion. As to
Idamoro, the very last accents of his sacrilegious voice braved, as he
walked, the procession that led him to his death. 'Hasten!' he ex-
claimed, ' what Bramin, or what warrior reserves to himself the honour
of striking me the first ?' When he passed near the spot where from
the height of our walls his armed hand had sent death amongst our foes ;
' Choose for my place of slaughter/ he cried, ' these rocks with which
I used to crush your terror-struck enemies.' The people waxes in-
dignant at the taunt. In their prompt justice they meditate and adopt
a second punishment for this new offence. Their irritation increases as
they proceed, and they prelude with insults the massacre of Alvar.
Idamoro stops when he hears their menacing voices. The bravest recoil
with terror 5 when, from all directions a thousand avenging arms hurl
upon him the fragments of stone that lie scattered in the dust. A
perfect cloud of missiles arises : it breaks and bursts forth with loud
din and tempestuous force upon his breast, and around his head. Ida-
moro protects his friend, embraces him, and opposes in vain his bosom
and his arm against the blow intended for Alvar. The meek Christian
who prays while he falls, fixed an eye of love on the cross, the powerless
symbol of his idolatry, invokes it, and, his countenance radiant with hope,
drops at the feet of Idamoro, while pointing out the heavens to his friend.
The insensate Idamoro now standing alone, weak and nearly lifeless,
still fronts us amid the storm, — with a brow of defiance he still proteots
Alvar, — then grows faint — falls overcome, and while dying covers with
his own mutilated body the corpse of his friend."
Alexander Soumet, a thorough poet in tone and thought has
written some superb classic dramas : among others may be men-
tioned "Cleopatra," "Norma," " Clytemnestre," and "Jeanne d'Arc.*'
Of these " Norma " has been immortalised by the genius of Bellini, and
" Jeahne d'Arc '' is rendered famous by the character of the heroine
being a favourite performance of Mile. Rachel. Yet the romantic sub-
ject of Joan of Arc is so little suited to the narrow limits of the classic
stage, that this tragedy, despite of beautiful verse and acting, hangs hea-
vily in representation : to exhibit the varied fortunes of the Pucelle
without changing the scene, and without extending the time beyond a
day, is an undertaking that must necessarily mar the interest of the
story.
One of the latest writers of classic tragedy is M. Latour de Saint Ybars,
and he is at the same time one of the best. His " Virginie" is an ex-
quisite production : its fame is closely connected with that of Mile.
Rachel : the inherent worth of the play, and her admirable impersonation
of Virginia, have secured to its frequent repetition delight and admiration.
The tragedy opens with the prayer of Virginia to the household gods,
which is replete with classic grace, and feeling. The following is a ver-
sion of it :
62 THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.
ACT I. SCENEI. — Virginia comes from her chamber ; she carries in her hands,
with religious fervor, the violet crowns and the cup containing the sacred
grain : she strews the grain upon the altar of the domestic gods> and places
the crowns upon their heads.
Virginia. — " Household Gods, you who watch over domestic peace, I
cmoe according to ancient custom to invoke you. Oh ! deign to re-
ceive my gifts j I bring to your altar, crowns of flowers, and pure offer-
ings of salt and grain. For, O Gods domestic! protectors of my
childhood ; you, it is who have acted in my defence in every danger.
Behold now, those other divinities who foster love, are withdrawing me
for ever from the paternal roof. Oh ! Penates, adopt my new found
family, and guide my footsteps towards that future which my heart re-
veals. I quit with regret your modest altar and its calm retreat. My
hope of happiness is great. Yet, I weep in offering you this last
oblation, while I feel that I soon must quit this spot. Oh, household
divinities ! accept my farewell. To my father, above all, grant some share
of comfort, so that the thread of his existence may be one of silk inter-
woven with gold. I think with sorrow of how he will return alone this
evening, and seat himself solitary and silent at his hearth. Bounteous
Gods, if his virtue move you, drive pallid -visaged sleeplessness and
weariness from his couch. May days of happiness linked one to
the other come to him in place of the remembrance of sorrows
that he must forget for ever. Dear tokens of happiness, — sweet gifts,
render me more handsome in my lover's eyes — more worthy of his faith.
Ye Gods of Hymen, put in this veil of the priestly Flamen some sovereign
charm to captivate Icilius' soul This day then, in a few short
moments I give myself as a wife to the object of my love. Icilius
pleases me, and men admire and extol him ; yet my very happiness
troubles me and makes me fearful. Explain to me this strange sen-
sation of my heart. This day am I to become the mistress of his
house, and yet I tremble for Icilius. Oh, pardon me, my beloved, I,
who doat on thee, do thee offence by this tremor : still I feel as if I
would willingly return to my childhood."
In a former number of " the Patrician," when noticing the acting of
Mile. Rachel at the St. James's Theatre, we contrasted this tragedy of
Virginia with the romantic play of " Virginius" by Sheridan Knowles .-
we still scarcelyknow to which to give the preference. M. Latour's work,
however, next to Talfourd's Ion, is certainly the nearest modern assimi-
lation to the dramas of antiquity.
In conclusion, the observations of Augustus Schlegel on the trage-
dies of France in former times, are so applicable to its modern classic
drama, that we cannot do better than here extract the passage from his
lectures.
" To comprise," says 'M. Schlegel, " what I have hitherto observed in
a few words : the French have endeavoured to form their tragedy accord-
ing to a strict idea ; but instead of this they have merely hit upon an
abstract notion. They require tragical dignity and grandeur, tragical
situations, passions, and pathos, altogether naked and pure without any
foreign appendages. From stripping them in this way of their accom-
paniments they lose much in truth, profundity, and character ; and the
whole composition is deprived of the living charm of variety, the magic
of picturesque situations, and of all those overpowering effects which
THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE. 63
can only be produced by the increase of objects under a voluntary
abandonment after easy and gradual preparation. With respect to the
theory of the tragic art, they are yet nearly at the point in which they
were in gardening in the time of Lenotre. The whole merit consists in
extorting a triumph from nature by means of art. They have no other
idea of regularity than the measured symmetry of straight alleys, clipt
hedges, &c. In vain should we labour to make those who lay out such
gardens comprehend that there can be any plan, any concealed order in
an English park, and demonstrate to them that a succession of landscapes,
which from their gradation, their alteration, and their opposition, give
effect to each other, all aim at exciting in us a certain disposition of
mind."
Mile. Rachel, by the mere force of her genius, may, during her bril-
liant career, retain the ascendancy of the classic drama; but the spirit
of Shakespeare, once admitted, must eventually prevail among the French
— a people more than any other of such lively intellect, and romantic
imagination.
MAYORS' OFFICIAL PREFIX.
There appears to be a little confusion as to the proper style to be used in
the official addresses of mayors of corporate towns ; sometimes we see them
described as the " Right Worshipful/' and at others the "Worshipful."
The question is, which is correct ? There being no particular law or regula-
tion, that we are aware of, in such a case, beyond custom, it seems not
inappropriate to enquire whether the custom could not now be rendered
more uniform, by the universal adoption of one or other of these additions,
whichever may be considered to be the right one. In the " Secretary's
Guide," 5th ed., 1831, p. 95, it is stated that Mayors of all Corporations,
with the Sheriffs, Aldermen, and Recorder of London, are styled the " Right
Worshipful," and the Aldermen and Recorder of other Corporations, and
Justices of the Peace, " Worshipful." An opinion is entertained, we believe
by some, that only mayors of cities should be styled " Right Worshipful,"
and those of towns " Worshipful ;" but there scarcely seems to be any valid
reason for such a distinction, and we incline to think that the former is more
correctly applicable to mayors in general. The term " Right," in matters
of title, denotes a more exalted step than another, — thus, we speak of the
" Most," and " Right," honorable or reverend, as a degree in rank higher
than merely " Honourable" or " Reverend." We observe also that it is the
practice in London to style the aldermen who have passed the chair, the
" Right Worshipful," and those below the chair as the " Worshipful" only,
although all are equally magistrates ; thus, making a distinction between
those who have been mayors, and those who have not. If the recorder,
justices, and aldermen of corporate towns are properly entitled to the style
of " Worshipful," it seems to be only reasonable and proper that the chief
magistrate or mayor, should be styled the "Right Worshipful ;" and we
think it advisable that the latter prefix should be generally adopted and sus-
tained in future, in all places the cause for it may exist. The Mayors of
London, York, and Dublin, it is well known possess the title of " Lord,"
and are addressed as the " Right Honourable."
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
ROBERT COOKE, ESQ., CALLED " LINEN COOKE."
IN p. 254 of our 2nd vol., we gave our readers an account of Valentine
Greatreakes, Esq., of the co. Waterford, whose extraordinary history forms
such a remarkable feature in the art of healing. A correspondent has
now enabled us to add to the pedigree of that family, a name which
was then omitted, namely, Captain William Greatreakes, of Affane, who was
brother to the celebrated Valentine, known by the appellation of ''The
Stroker." This Captain William had a daughter, Anne, who was wife
of William Cooke, Esq., of Camphire, in the co. Waterford. She died
the 10th August, 1740. Her husband, William Cooke, was a younger son
of Robert, of Cappoquin, in the same county, whose eldest son was
Robert Cooke, Esq., also of Cappoquin, commonly called " Linen Cooke."
William, who was an Alderman and Mayor of Youghall, and who^died^lst
June, 1 742, had by his aforesaid wife, a son, Josiah, who died 7th Decem-
ber, 1754, having been married to Miss Baggs, by whom he was father of
Robin Cooke, who having served in the 2nd Battalion of the Royals with
the British Army in North America, was the first to enter the breach
at Moro, in the Havannah, for which, on his return home, he was publicly
entertained, and received the freedom of the City of Glasgow. The Muni-
cipal Act conferring the freedom is now in the possession of his descendant,
Thomas Wigmore, Esq., of Bally vaddock, co. Cork. Robin m. a lady of
the O'Brien family, of the co. Limerick, by whom he had an only child,
Mary, who was b. in 1772, and m. in 1787, Henry Wigmore, Esq., of
Ballyvaddock. As connected with the celebrated Valentine Greatreakes,
let us now revert to an equally remarkable personage, Robert, alias
" Linen" Cooke, before mentioned, to have resided at Cappoquin, in the
same county Waterford. This Robert Cooke was a very eccentric and
wealthy gentleman, and had several estates in both England and Ireland.
His first wife was a Bristol lady, and in consequence of his visits to that
city he caused a pile of stones to be erected on a rock in the Bristol
Channel, which after him was called " Cooke's Folly." The name of his
second wife was Cecilia or Cecily, and he had children, John of Youghall,
Robert, Josiah, and two daughters. He fled to England in the troubles of
James the Second's reign, and resided sometimes at Ipswich, in Suffolk, as is
related by Archbishop King, in his State of the Irish Protestants. During
his absence, the Parliament held at Dublin, 7th May, 1 689, declared him to
be attainted as a traitor if he failed in returning to Ireland by the 1st of
September following. He died in 1726, upwards of eighty years of age, and
by his will directed that he should be interred with his son John's family, in
the Cathedral or Church called " Tempul," in Youghall, and that his shroud
should be made " of linen," Amongst other particularities he had his coach
drawn by white horses and their harness made of hemp and linen. His
cows were also white. In Smith's History of the county Waterford, this
Robert Cooke is reckoned amongst the remarkable personages of that
county, and a long account given of him. Smith says of him, " He was a
kind of Pythagorean philosopher, and for many years before his death eat
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 65
neither fish, flesh, butter, nor drank milk or any fermented liquor, nor wore
woollen clothes or any other produce of an animal." From his constantly
wearing none but linen garments and using linen generally for other pur-
poses he acquired the appellation, " Linen Cooke." He maintained a long
controversy with the celebrated Athenian Society, and in 1 69 1 published a
curious explanation of his peculiar religious principles, supporting them by
numerous texts from Scripture, and at the end of all was printed a long
prayer. It is from Captain Thomas Cooke, an uncle of this " Linen Cooke,"
that the family of Cooke or Cooke- Collis, now settled at Castle Cooke, co.
Cork, derives its descent, and from another uncle, Edward Cooke, the
families of Kiltynan, Cordangan, and Fortwilliam, &c., in the co. Tipperary,
and of Parsonstown, in the King's county, are descended.
A PROMISE FULFILLED.
Lady Elizabeth D'Arcy, the fair and richly portioned daughter of
Thomas, Earl Rivers, was wooed by three suitors at the same time ; and
the knights, as in chivalry bound, were disposed to contest the prize with
targe and lance ; but the lady forbade the battle, and menaced disobedience
with her eternal displeasure, promising, however, jocularly, that if they had
but patience, she would have them all in their turn; and she literally
fulfilled her promise, for she married, first, Sir George Trenchard of
Wolverton, who left her a widow at seventeen ; secondly, Sir John Gage of
Firle ; and, thirdly, Sir William Hervey of Ickworth ; — the three original
claimants for her hand.
THE FAMOUS LADY CAVENDISH.
The Noble House of Cavendish is indebted to the third wife of Sir
William Cavendish, the faithful friend of Wolsey, for the principal part of
its vast possessions. That lady, the daughter and co-heir of John Hard-
wick of Hardwick, erected three of the most splendid seats ever built by a
single person, — Chatsworth, Hardwick, and Oldcotes. She was four times
married; 1st, to Robert Barley, Esq., of Barley; 2dly, to Sir William
Cavendish ; 3rdly, to Sir William St. Loo ; and 4thly, to George, Earl of
Shrewsbury. " She prevailed," says Lodge, " upon the first of these
gentlemen, who died without issue, to settle his estate upon her and
her heirs, who were abundantly produced from her second marriage. Her
third husband, who was very rich, was led by her persuasions to make a
similar disposition of his fortune, to the utter prejudice of his daughters by
a former wife ; and now, unsated with the wealth and caresses of three
husbands, she finished her conquests by marrying the Earl of Shrewsbury,
the richest and most powerful peer of his time. To sum up her character,
she was a woman of masculine understanding and conduct, proud, furious,
selfish, and unfeeling. She was a builder, a buyer, and seller of estates, a
money lender, a farmer, and a merchant of lead, coals, and timber. She
lived to a great old age, and died in 1607, immensely rich.
FAMILY OF RUDYERD.
To the Editor of the Patrician.
Sir,
I subscribe to the " Patrician," and on casting my eye over the recent
VOL IV. NO. XV. F
66 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
list of presentations at Court, I read the name of Rudyerd; it occurred to
me that it was worthy some little notice, as being of a family whose pedi-
gree can be traced as far back as 1030, (I possess one) and as you give a
short account of many of the families, leave it to your better judgment as
to inserting the following, or any other that may be in your possession.
And am Sir,
Yours obediently,
F.
The family of Rudyerd, of Rudyerd, one of considerable importance, was
settled in the parish of Leek, co. Stafford, long prior to the Norman Conquest ;
evidence whereof may be found in Doomsday book and other records of the
pure Saxon origin. One of the family, Richard, accompanied Richard
CoBur de Lion to the Crusades, where he distinguished himself. Rudulphus,
Lord of Rudyerd, living in the reign of Henry VII., joined Lord Stanley
with a large body of men at the battle of Bosworth, and tradition in
the family says he was the person who slew the King. Henry VII. on this
occasion added to the arms — on a canton a rose or in a field gules.
In later years (1708), one Mr. John Rudyerd planned and erected the
Eddystone Lighthouse, a fabric admirably adapted to resist the elements it
had to oppose, and stood the test of nearly fifty years, until destroyed by
fire 2nd December, 1755.
Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, Judge and Surveyor of the Court of Ward and
Liveries in the time of Charles and Oliver, of Westwoodhay, co. Berks,
Knt., was called to the bar at the age of twenty-six, married Mary, dau. of Sir
Henry Harrington, and left issue an only son, Wm. Rudyerd, who married
Sarah, one of the five daughters and coheiresses of Sir Stephen Harvey,
of Melton Maler, co. Northampton, left issue an only son, Benjamin
Rudyerd, who married Dorothy, one of the two daughters and coheiresses
of Sir Benjamin Maddox, Bart,, of Wormleybury, co. Herts, by Dorothy,
his wife, sole heir of Sir William Glascock, of King's Langley, same co.,
Knt. Master of the Court of Requests to King Chas. II., &c. By THIS first
marriage Mr. B. Rudyerd had several children ; the elder, Robert, married
Jane, only daughter and heiress of the Hon. Mrs. Chaplin; left issue
Benjamin Rudyerd, Captain Coldstream Guards, who died unmarried in
Nova Scotia, 1752. By the second marriage of Mr. B. Rudyerd to Miss
Beamont, of Yorkshire, descended the late Richard Rudyerd of Whitby, in
same co., who married Miss Yeomans, but died witout issue, and his
brothers, the late General Rudyerd of the Royal Engineers, who married
Mary, daughter of S. Pryer, Esq., of Lichfield, Hants, an ancient family ;
the General died in 1828, aged 88, whose surviving issue is Col. Rudyerd
of the Royal Artillery (who from his distinguished services at Waterloo,
&c., was lately promoted to the superintendence of the Royal Reposi-
tory at Woolwich, and presented at court, 24th February, 1847). Charles
Lennox Rudyerd, late paymaster of the Ardean Canal, Canada ; and
a daughter, Lsetitia, married 1st, Robert Gordon of Xeres, Esq., by
whom had issue a daughter, married — Baxter, Esq., late Attorney
General at Sidney, N. S. Wales, and secondly Christopher Richardson of
Field House, Whitby, Yorkshire. The two sons, who died before their
father the General, were Col. William, of the Engineers, and Capt. Henry,
of the East India Company, both leaving issue, and followed for a time
the family profession of arms.
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
67
THE LONDON RECLUSE.
A correspondent favours us with the following pedigree of the family of
Henry Welby, Esq. of Goxhill, the London recluse, whose eccentric career
we described in a former number.
Ellen Hall, =f Adlard Welby, Esq.
1st -wife. ( d. 1571.
of Gedney ,=f=Cassandra,
2nd wife.
HenryW'elby,Esq.=
of Goxhill, the
great Recluse of
Grub Street,Lon-
don, d. 29 Oct.
1636, £et. 84.
pAlice dau. of Ad- Rev. BasilWelby, SirWm. Wel-=i
Thos. White, lard, who shot at his by,of Gedney
Esq. of Wood- brother Henry, Knt. of the
head, in Rut- with intent to Most Noble
land, and of kill him ; he was Order of the
Tuxford, Notts, a dissolute cha- Bath, (late of
by Anne, his racter. Gedney,
wife, (sister of 1631.)
Lord Burleigh.)
Elizabeth ,=
an only
child.
=Sir Christopher William Welby ,=
Hildyard, of Esq. son & heir
Wynestead, of Sir William
Knt. d. 1636. Welby, late of
Gedney, deceas-
ed, d. 11 Dec., 8
Charles I. 1632.
=Anne Smithe,(dau. Vin- Philip,
of George Smythe, cent, of Ged-
Esq. of the city of brother ney,
London, citizen and of Wm. Esq.
alderman,) survived 1631. 1635.
her husband, and
in 1635 was the
wife of Francis
Vernon,Esq. of the
city of London.
1
Henry Hildyard,=f
of East Horsley,
in Surrey, Esq.
d. Jan. 1674.
^Lady Ann Leake, Sir
dau. of Francis, 1st Robert,
Baron d'Eyncourt, d. 1685.
of Sutton, and Earl
ofScarsdale.
Chris- Ed- Philip. Chas. Adlard
topher, ward. Welby,
d.1694. 1655.
Dorothy, dau. of Thomas Gran-=j=Henry Hildyard, Esq.of Kel-=j=Elizabeth, dau. of
tham, Esq. of Goltho, d. 1667- stern in Lincoln, d. abroad. John Hilder, Esq.
1st wife. 2nd wife.
Christopher Hild-=
yard,the son of Hen.
Hildyard, of Kel-
stern, and the grand-
son and heir at law,
of Henry Hildyard,
of East Horsley,
and Lady Ann
Leke, his wife.
=Jane, dau. Wm. Ann. Fran- Thos. Mi- William, Richd.
of George cis. chael. d. 1691. d. 1695.
Pitt, of
Strathfield-
saye, ances-
tor of Lord
Rivers. [
Ann.~Birch. Jane.=John Mar- Dorothy, survived and=f George Clay- Elizabeth,
shall. afterwards m. to her j ton, cf Great d. unm.
second husband, Ralph Grimsby.
Tennyson, of Great I
Grimsby.
Christopher Clayton, Esq. of Great
Grimsby, d.s.p. 1795, nephew Geo.
Tennyson, his executor. I
David. Eliza =r=Michael Ann. Jonathan,
beth. I Tennyson,
b c
G8
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
Georsre Tennyson, Esq. of Bayons Manor ,=f Mary Turner, dau of John
_. J __ . w • i Jl m _ __ ~C /~i«I«<^— .
and Usselby Hall, co
heir.
•T
Lincoln, son and Turner, of Caistor.
bed
I I I
Daughters.
Rev. George =
Clayton Ten-
nyson, D.D.
deceased.
=Elizabeth, dau.
of the Rev. Ste-
phen Fytche.
The Rt. Hon.=f
Charles Ten-
nyson, d'Eyn-
court, M.P.
of Bayons
Manor and
Usselby Hall,
co. Lancaster.
=Frances Mary, Eliza-=i
only child of beth.
Rev.John Hut-
ton, of Morton
nearGainsbro*.
i
=Matthew
Russell,
Esq. of
Brance-
peth
Castle.
Charles Tennyson Tur- Alfred
ner, Esq. of Caistor, Tenny-
assumed the name of son,
Turner, under the will the
of his uncle the Rev. Poet.
Samuel Turner, of
Caistor.
Other George Hild- Other Wm. Rus- Emma Ma-
issue, yard, eldest issue. sell,Esq. of ria, m. the
son and heir Brance- Hon. Gus-
apparent. - peth. tavus Fre-
derick
Hamilton.
A CURIOUS TRADITION.
In a letter from Dr. Brett to Dr. Warren, president of Trinity-hall, Cam-
bridge, dated September 1, 1723, it is said, that about Michaelmas, 1720,
the doctor went to pay a visit to Heneage, Earl of Winchelsea, at Eastwell-
house, where that nobleman shewed him an entry in the parish register,
which the doctor transcribed immediately into his almanack ; it stood thus :
" 1550, Richard Plantagenet was buryed the 22 daye of December." The
register did not mention whether he was buried in the church or church-
yard, nor could any memorial be retrived of him, except the tradition pre-
served in the family, and some remains of his house. The story of this
man, as it was related by the Earl of Winchelsea, is thus : — When Sir
Thomas Moyle built Eastwell-house, he observed, that when his chief brick-
layer left off work, he retired with a book. Sir Thomas had a great curiosity
to know what book the man read ; but was some time before he could dis-
cover it, he always putting the book up if any one came towards him. A t
last, however, Sir Thomas surprised him, and snatched the book from him,
and looking upon it, found it to be Latin : hereupon he examined him, and
finding he pretty well understood that language, enquired how he came by his
learning ? On which the man told him, as he had been a good master to
him, he would venture to trust him with a secret he had never before revealed.
He then informed him, that he was boarded with a Latin schoolmaster, with-
out knowing who his parents were, till he was fifteen or sixteen years old ;
only a gentleman who took occasion to acquaint him he was no relation to
him, came once a quarter and paid for his board, and took care to see that
he wanted for nothing ; and one day this gentleman took him, and carried
him to a fine great house, where he passed through several stately rooms, in
one of which he left him, bidding him to stay there ; then a man finely
dressed, with a star and garter, came to him, asked him some questions,
talked kindly to him, and gave him some money ; then the forementioned
gentleman returned and conducted him back to his school. Some time after,
the same gentleman came to him again with a horse, and proper accoutre-
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. by
ments, and told him he must take a journey with him into the country.
They then went into Leicestershire, and came to Bosworth Field, and he was
carried to Richard the Third's tent. The king embraced him, and told him
he was his son. "But child," said he, "to-morrow I must fight for my
crown, and assure yourself if I lose that, I will lose my life too, but I hope to
preserve both. Do you stand in such a place, (directing him to a particular
place) where you may see the battle out of danger, and when I have gained
the victory, come to me. I will then own you to be mine, and take care of
you ; but if I should be unfortunate as to lose the battle, then shift as well
as you can, and take care to let nobody know I arn your father, for no mercy
will be shown to any one so nearly related to me." Then the king gave
him a purse of gold, and dismissed him. He followed the king's directions,
and when he saw the battle was lost, and the king killed, he hastened to Lon-
don, sold his horse and fine clothes, &nd the better to conceal himself from
all suspicion of being the son of a king, and that he might have the means to
live by his honest labour, he put himself apprentice to a bricklayer, but having
a competent skill in the Latin tongue, he was unwilling to lose it, and having
an inclination to reading, and no delight in the conversation of those he was
obliged to work with, he generally spent all the time he had to spare in
reading by himself. Sir Thomas said, " you are now old, and almost past
your labour, and I will give you the running of my kitchen as long as you
live." He answered, " Sir, you have a numerous family ; I have been used
to live retired ; give me leave to build a house of one room for myself in
such a field, and there, with your good leave I will live and die ; and if you
have any work that I can do for you, I shall be ready to serve you. Sir
Thomas granted his request ; he built his house, and there continued to his
death. This Richard Plantagenet must have lived to the age of 81, for the
battle of Bosworth was fought the 22d of August, 1485, at which time hp
was between fifteen and sixteen.
PASTORALE DE' ZAMPOGNARL*
Quanno nascette Ninno a Betelemme,
Era notte, e parea miezo juorno ;
Maje li stelle
Lustere e belle
Se vedetteno accussi
La chiti lucente
Tettea chiammk li Magi in Oriente.
* One of those little moral hymns which the Zampognari or pipers, from the Abruzzi
and Calabrian mountains, sing before the images of the Virgin at the corners of the streets
in Rome and Naples at the season of Advent, accompanied by the^ sound of their rustic
bagpipes.
70 PASTORAL DE' ZAMPOGNARI.
No' ncerano nemice ppe la terra,
« La pecora pasua co lo Hone,
Co lii crapette
Se vedette
Lu liopardo pazzia —
L' urzo co vitrello
E co lo lupo 'ripace u pecoriello.
Guardavano le pecore li pasture
E 1'Angelo gbrannente chiti de lu sole
Comparette
E li dicette,
Non ve spaventate, n6 ;
Contento e riso
La terra £ arreventata Paravuo.
When Christ in Bethlehem was born,
Twas night, but seemed the noon of day,
Each shining star
In heaven afar,
Shed o'er the earth its lightest ray j
But one than all the rest more bright
Guided the Eastern Magi onward by its pure and golden light.
Then o'er the world reigned Peace and Love ;
1 he lion and the simple sheep,
The pard and kid
Together feed,
Or o'er the lawns securely sleep ;
The wolf and lamb, the calf and bear,
Repose in safety each, nor seek the forest's dark and leafy lair.
The Shepherds as they watched their flocks,
A sunlike angel saw descend,
Who sweetly said,
" Be not dismayed,
With joyful tidings here I wend !
For Earth puts on her loveliest guise,
And shines in heavenly beauty now, transformed anew to Paradise,"
E. KENEALY.
71
TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT,
3 THE HIGH-ROAD AND THE RAIL-ROAD.
No. I. THE HIGH-ROAD.
IN these days of perpetual motion, when not only the loyal lieges "of our
sovereign lady, but the good citizens of the world beside, are making such
marvellous efforts to subdue time and space, it may be found as instructive
as it is obviously pertinent to institute comparison between the present —
and those good old times " all times, when old, are good" — wherein your
honest country gentleman deemed it prudent to devise his lands and tene-
ments, and otherwise adjust his mundane affairs, ere he perilled life and
limb, by coach or waggon, athwart that dreary stretch of country which lay
between the great cities of York and London : by coach or waggon, we say,
for the bold baron and his noble dame, of some centuries before, on steed
and palfrey, scorning all other canopies but that of heaven, come not within
the range of our similitude, maugre they flourished, like ourselves, in Iron
Times. The wife of Bath, whose praise it was that— t
" Girt with a pair of sporres sharpe,
Upon an ambler esily she sat/
would doubtless have felt herself insulted, had a carriage been selected for
her use. At a time when roads were scarcely passable, the palfrey and the
litter were the only modes of ladies' conveyance ; and even after the intro-
duction of coaches, the use of litters continued both in England and France.
In 1527, when Wolsey visited the latter kingdom to negotiate a peace, we
find that the dame regent, the king's mother, entered Amiens, " riding in a
very riche chariot ; and with her therein was the Queen of Navarre, her
daughter, furnished with a hundred and more of ladies and gentlewomen
following, every one riding upon a white palfrie ; besides diverse and many
ladies, some in riche horse-litters, and some in chariots." The king, though
attired with the utmost magnificence, according to the military spirit of the
age, rode into the city on a " goodly genet."
Stowe asserts that, " in the year 1564, Guilliam Boonen, a Dutchman,
became the queene's coachman, and was the first that brought the use of
coaches into England." The first engraved representation of an English
coach is probably to be found in the fine old print of the Palace of Nonsuch,
by Hoemagel, which bears the date of 1582. Queen Elizabeth is there
seated in a low heavy machine, open at the sides, with a canopy, and drawn
by two horses only. Her attendants follow in a carriage of different form,
with an oblong canopy.
Mary, Queen of Scots, whilst under the surveillance of the Earl of
Shrewsbury, appears to have travelled on horseback in her various journeys,
and about the year 1640, the Countess of Cumberland, in a tedious transit
from London to Londesborough, which occupied eleven days, either from
the state of the roads, or from a distaste to metropolitan luxuries, seems to
have ridden the whole way on horseback. In the correspondence of Sir
George Radcliffe, we have many proofs of the serious inconvenience that
72 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.
attended travellers in the early part of the 17th century ; and the following
is a curious instance of the simplicity of manners prevalent at the period.
The editor observes — "at this time (1609) the communication between the
north of England and the Universities was kept up by carriers, who pur-
sued their tedious but uniform route with whole trains of pack-horses. To
their care was consigned not only the packages, but frequently the persons
of young scholars. It was through their medium, also, that epistolary cor-
respondence was managed, and, as they always visited London, a letter could
scarcely be exchanged between Yorkshire and Oxford in less time than a
month." From a passage in one of the Paston letters, written about the
close of the loth century, we find that few opportunities occurred of trans-
mitting letters from London to Norwich, except through the agency of
persons who frequented the fairs held in the latter city- In the south of
England, at a period long subsequent, the state of the public roads appears
to have been equally defective, and convenience in travelling almost wholly
neglected. In Dec. 1703, Charles, King of Spain, slept at Petworth, on
his way from Portsmouth to Windsor, and Prince George of Denmark went
to meet him there. " We set out" (as one of the attendants relates) " at
six o'clock in the morning to go for Petworth, and did not get out of the
coaches (save only when we were overturned or stuck fast in the mire) till
we arrived at our journey's end. 'Twas hard service for the Prince to sit
fourteen hours in the coach that day without eating anything, and passing
through the worst ways that I ever saw in my life ; we were thrown but
once indeed, in going, but both our coach, which was the leading, and his
Highness's body coach, would have suffered very often, if the nimble boors
of Sussex had not frequently poised it or supported it with their shoulders
from Godalmin almost to Petworth ; and the nearer we approached to the
Duke's house, the more unaccessible it seemed to be. The last nine miles
of the way cost us six hours to conquer them, and indeed we had never
done it, if our good master had not several times lent us a pair of horses
out of his own coach, whereby we were enabled to trace out the way for
him ; they made us believe that the several grounds we crost, and his
Grace's park, would alleviate the fatigue ; but I protest 1 could hardly per-
ceive any difference between them and the common roads."
In the time of Charles, surnamed the Proud, Duke of Somerset, who died
in 1 748, the roads in Sussex were in so bad a state, that in order to arrive
at Guildford from Petworth, persons were obliged to make for the nearest
point of the great road leading from Portsmouth to London. This was a
work of so much difficulty as to occupy the whole day, and the duke had a
house at Guildford which was regularly occupied as a resting-place for the
night by any part of his family travelling to London. A MS. letter from
a servant of the Duke's, dated from London, and addressed to another at
Petworth, acquaints the latter that his Grace intended to go from London
thither on a certain day, and directs that " the keepers and persons who
knew the holes and the sloughs, must come to meet his Grace with lanthorns
and long poles to help him on his way."
The precise period at which a stage-coach first appeared upon the road,
it is difficult to determine ;* but we have good authority for assigning the
latter part of the reign of Charles I. as the probable date : certain it is, that
* Coaches for hire were first established in 1625, and amounted at that time to
twenty. They stood at the principal inns, and were called " Hackney Coaches," from
their being first used to travel betwixt London and Hackney.
TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 73
although in 1662 there were but six public carriages, the number had so in-
creased in a few years after, that one John Crossell, of the Charter House,
then one of the wise men of the East, tried his best to write down the new-
system. He had, it is conjectured, the countenance of the country squires,
who dreaded that the facility and cheapness of travelling would too often
induce their dames arid daughters to visit the metropolis, and unfit them for
the homely pleasures of the Hall and the Grange. The tradesmen, too, in
and near London, took it into their heads to consider the existence of such
vehicles a public evil, and, in a spirit very much akin to that which has ex-
isted in our own times, petitioned King Charles II. and the Privy Council to
put an end to the " stage coach nuisance ;" but the result of this petition
against so important a public convenience was as unsuccessful as every si-
milar attempt made by the few against the welfare of the many must ever
ultimately be.
The improvement in coach travelling made slow progress during the next
half-century. The novels of Fielding and Smollet afford amusing and
graphic details of the stages and waggons of their day ; but the pencil of
Hogarth, will best exhibit the strange contrast there existed between the
lumbering vehicle of the reign of George I., and the dashing equipage that,
in the time of his fourth successor, accomplished the distance between Lon-
don and Brighton within five hours. In 1 742 the Oxford stage-coach left town
at seven o'clock in the morning, and reached Uxbridge at midday. It ar-
rived at High Wycombe at five in the evening, where it rested for the night,
and proceeded at the same rate for the seat of learning on the morrow.
Here then were ten hours consumed each day in passing over twenty- seven
miles, and nearly two days in performing what is now accomplished in as
many hours. Thirty years ago, the Holyhead mail left London, via Oxford,
at eight o'clock at night, and arrived in Shrewsbury between ten and eleven
the following night, being twenty-seven hours to one hundred and sixty-two
miles. This distance was done without the least difficulty, in 1832, in six-
teen hours and a quarter. At that period, and for the five or six following
years, stage-coach travelling attained in this country most astonishing per-
fection. Competition had reduced charges to their lowest level, and brought
elegance, comfort, and expedition to their highest. The great Northern,
the Western, the Oxford, and the Brighton roads were covered with splen-
did public conveyances. On the last, no less than twenty-live ran during
the summer. The fastest were the Red Rover, the Age, and the Telegraph,
all horsed in the most admirable manner, and driven in many instances by
men of rank and education. The Edinburgh mail performed the distance,
400 miles, in forty hours ; and one might have set his watch by it at any
point of the journey. The Exeter day coach, the Herald, ran over her
ground, 173 miles, both hilly and difficult, in twenty hours; the Diligence
from Paris to Calais requiring, for the same distance, forty-eight hours in
summer, and from fifty to sixty in winter.
Thus it was, before steam, with its irresistible power, came to revolutionise
the travelling world, that we journeyed through the picturesque scenery of
our own beautiful island, enjoying the rural comforts of its road-side hostel-
ries, admiring its ancient cities, and priding ourselves on the industry and
bustle of its manufacturing towns. How spiritedly does Boz recall to our
recollection the departed glory of the turnpike road. " The coach was none
of your steady- going, yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakish, disreputable,
London coach ; up all night, and lying by all day, and leading a devil of a
life. It cared no more for Salisbury than if it had been a hamlet. It
74 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.
rattled noisily through tfie best streets, defied the cathedral, took the worst
corners sharpest, went cutting in every where, making every thing get out
of its way ; and spun along the open country road, blowing a lively defiance
out of its key bugle, as its last glad parting legacy. The four grays skimmed
along : the bugle was in as high spirits as the grays ; the coachman chimed
in sometimes with his voice, the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison : the
brass work on the harness was an orchestra of little bells ; and thus, as they
went clinking, jingling, rattling, smoothly on, the whole concern, from the
buckles of the leaders' coupling-reins, to the hand of the hind boot, was
one great instrument of music."
No. II. THE RAIL-ROAD.
r When the mail coaohes, after the practice and improvement of a few
years, had gradually attained the speed of ten or twelve miles an hour, great
was the self-laudation of the age upon its own nimbleness as compared to
the slow gouty-paced travelling of its ancestors. It was a subject on which
the eighteenth century, especially when drawing near its end, was mightily
facetious and grandiloquent, always wondering what its dear departed gran-
dames would say if they could only peep out of their graves and see the
portentous rate at which it was flying along the road, even without the
necessity of making a will beforehand. But now, how are the tables
turned ! the fable of the seven -leagued boots, used by Jack in the fairy tale,
were evidently only a symbol, at once marking and veiling the discovery of
the steam-engine, just as Friar Bacon hid his invention of gunpowder under
a jumble of words, being equally unwilling to lose the credit of his know-
ledge, or to impart it to others. We, therefore, beg leave, to put in Jack's
claim at once, in case the French or Americans, those universal discoverers
of all that has been discovered, should attempt to defraud the giant-killing
hero of the glory that belongs to him.
- There is something not a little flattering to our hopes of future improve-
ment, when we look at the humble origin of railway travelling. Who that
sees one of the present splendid trains flying along at the rate of twenty or
thirty miles an hour, would imagine that it was the lineal descendant of a
coal-cart, slowly drawn along a wooden tram by a single horse ? And yet
such is the bare fact, stript of all exaggeration. This simple contrivance
was adopted about two-hundred years ago, to facilitate the drawing of coals
from the pits to the places of shipment in the neighbourhood of Newcastle-
upon-Tyne ; the waggon, which went upon small wheels, contained from
two to three tons of coal, and was provided with a flange, or projecting rim,
for the purpose of keeping it in contact with the rail. From time to time
various improvements were made upon this humble beginning-, without,
however, deviating from the general principle ; stone- supports were sub-
stituted for the wooden sleepers, arid, to make the pull easier for the horse,
in steep ascents, or in the case of sharp curves, thin plates of malleable iron
were nailed on the surface of the rails, the greater smoothness of the metal
facilitating the draught. Then cast-iron rods were introduced ; but this ex-
periment, seemingly so obvious, was, after all, the result of accident, as
perhaps may be said of many other discoveries for which individuals have
obtained all the fame that belongs to invention. It seems that in 1767 the
price of iron became very low, and, in order to keep the furnaces at work,
it was resolved to cast bars, to be laid upon the wooden rails ; this would
save expense in their repairs ; and if any sudden rise in the value of iron
TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 75
should take place, they might be taken up again, and, in the language of
the trade, sold as pigs. Excellent as this plan was, when compared with
what had been done before, it was soon found to have its disadvantages.
The form of the rail was weak, considering the quantity of metal employed
upon it, and it allowed dirt and pebbles to be lodged, which impeded the
free motion of the carriages, and even made them liable to be thrown out of
the track. This, after some minor attempts at improvement, led to the
grand invention of edge-rails, which was followed by the use of malleable
rods in place of the brittle cast-iron, an ingenious adaptation of rolling ma-
chinery having enabled the engineers to give them the requisite form.
Hitherto we have seen only animal power used to impel the carriages on
a railway ; but gravity soon came to be employed as an auxiliary, and in
some cases as the sole propelling agent, where the road admitted of an in-
clined plane, no greater power being required to take a loaded carriage down
than to drag it up again. Where the too great steepness of the ground
rendered this plan inadmissible, recourse was had to what was called a self-
acting inclined plane, by which ingenious contrivance the loaded car in its
descent pulled up the empty waggons by means of a rope passed round a
wheel at the top of the acclivity. This may be considered as the first
chapter in the history of the railway, which, though a simple term, we shall
presently see applied to that compound piece of engineering, which includes
the steam-engine, the carriages, and the road on which they travel. But
we have not yet quite done with the railway itself, properly so called. >
When experience had once established the fact that iron rails, by lessen-
ing the friction, considerably lightened the draught, it will not seem strange
that a projector should at last be found to speculate on the advantage of
substituting railways for the common road. This was Dr. Anderson. He
had no idea of any new locomotive power, but proposed to carry a line^of rail •
ways by the side of the turnpike roads, along which waggons might pass
drawn by horses. Mr. Edgeworth, either borrowing the Doctor's idea, or,
as he said, having originated it himself, went a step farther, and in " Nichol-
son's Journal of the Arts" for March, 1802, suggested that means might
be found to enable " stage-coaches to go six miles an hour, and post chaises
and gentlemen's travelling- carriages to travel with eight, both with one
horse." But neither of the projectors seemed to have considered how the
rail was to be carried on by the side of the turnpike-road when the latter
came to run through the towns, or how the carriage was to be moved when
the intervention of any steep made farther progress impossible ; though one
horse might draw a waggon upon a rail, it was quite evident that he could
not drag the same weight up a hill along a common highway. As, how-
ever, neither of these plans was attempted to be carried into effect, the diffi-
culties in question never came to be tested.
While tram-ways had thus been exercising the ingenuity of projectors, a
power was growing to maturity, which was destined to change the whole face
of the matter. In 1802 it occurred to Messrs. Trevethick and Vivian to take
out a patent for a steam -carriage on the public road : and though it does not
appear to have been ever actually employed, it led to the experiment being
tried on a colliery railway in South Wales. It succeeded but partially, and a
fancy having now seized the engineers that a smooth-tired wheel would not
adhere sufficiently to the surface of the rail for onward motion, all their in-
genuity was employed in removing a difficulty, which did not exist, till
after the lapse of a few years, Mr. George Stephenson was fortunate enough
to discover that his brethren had been fighting with a shadow. The con-
76 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRKSENT.
struction of the first of the modern, or travelling class of railways, between
Darlington and Stockton, on which one horse drew with ease a carriage
•with twenty- six passengers, at the rate of ten miles an hour, afforded an
opportunity for testing his invention. Accordingly it was tried, and though
the operation was remarkable, its success was not sufficient to attract the
public attention. The Titan had not yet attained its full maturity ; and
when, some time afterwards, the monied men of Manchester and Liverpool
employed Mr. Stephenson to construct a railroad for them, they had no
idea, as it should seem, of any other motive agent than stationary engines,
The question, however, on the completion of the railway, came to be agi-
tated, when these practical men of business, wisely preferring facts to theory
offered a reward of five hundred pounds for the best locomotive carriage,
capable of fulfilling certain conditions. Their demands were not very exor-
bitant : ten miles an hour was the maximum of speed required, and it is
curious enough in the present day to read how even the friends of the loco-
motive project disclaimed any such NONSENSE as the idea of travelling by
steam " at the rate of ten, sixteen, eighteen, twenty miles an hour." It
must be acknowledged that these new Frankensteins little understood the
tremendous nature of the monster they were calling into existence.
At length, on the 8th of October, 1829, — a day more justly to be cele-
brated than even the anniversaries of the Nile or Waterloo, — the trial took
place, on a portion of the Liverpool and Manchester railway, prepared for
the purpose. Greatly to the surprise of those who a short time before had
voted Mr. Stephenson only fit for Bedlam, his carriage went at the rate of
thirty miles an hour without a load, and at twenty-four miles an hour when
encumbered with three times its own weight, which was thirteen tons.
Titan had now triumphed : the union of the railway and the locomotive
engine was complete ; but still the idea of carrying goods was uppermost
in men's minds, nor was it till the invention had come into active operation,
that its great value as a means of conveying passengers was at all under-
stood. Then, indeed, the truth became gradually developed, and men saw
— not a few with fear as well as wonder — the realization of those day-dreams
which had been promulgated by Dr. Darwin so early as 1 793 : —
" Soon shall thy arm, unconquer'd STEAM ! afar
Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car ;
Or oil wide-waving wings expanded bear
The flying chariot through the fields of air.'*
Botanic Garden, Canto i. 253—289.
Well may the reader of these lines exclaim with Macbeth, upon the half
achievement of his greatness —
«* Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the aerial (imperial) theme."
At all events, the thirty miles an hour seemed just as absurd in those
days, when the idea was first started, as the flying chariot can possibly do
to us ; and, though the latter may be never realised, it should hardly be set
down in the chapter of utter impossibilities.
No sooner was the locomotive steam-engine found to answer the expec-
tation of the inventors, than a new impetus was given to the formation of
roads, on which they might most effectually exert their agency. Up ascents
of any great steepness, it was quite clear, they would not go, the adhesion
between the engine-wheels and the rails not being sufficient to ensure the
TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 77
progressive motion of the machine. Ways, therefore, had to be cut through
hills where they were not too high, throwing up the earth on either side, or
they were to be formed by tunnelling where the- height of the ground made
that the cheapest and most efficacious mode of working. Sometimes, as in
case of narrow valleys, it was found better to carry the road across them
upon arches, the expense being less than the more ordinary way of raising
an embankment.
Latterly, the introduction of another element has threatened to render
useless not a few of these ingenious contrivances. It has been proposed,
and the experiment is now actually in progress, to lay down hollow pipes or
cylinders, and exhaust the air in them, by means of steam engines fixed at
certain distances, when the atmospheric pressure, it is expected, will be suf-
ficient to propel the carriages that are connected by means of a rod with the
several tubes. The objectors to the plan cry oat upon the expense, as well
as the great difficulty of carrying it out in frosty weather, and upon an ex-
tended line, for they argue that the experiment tried in the neigbourhood of
Dublin upon a scale of three miles, goes for nothing, however successful it
may have been. They refer to the result to confirm their forebodings ; and
certainly there is no denying the homely old proverb, that " the proof of the
pudding is in the eating ;" still, if we must not praise till we have tasted,
we have just as little right to blame ; and the verdict becomes still more
suspicious when, as in this case, it is plain the opinion is given from other
interests and predilections. They who have embarked thousands in the
present railways may be excused if they are a little incredulous as to the
feasibility of the atmospheric scheme. For ourselves, we have in our time
seen so many things turn out well that had previously been declared to be
impossible, that we are inclined to distrust the sceptics even more than the
enthusiasts. Dr. Lardner, we can well remember, proclaimed the utter
impossibility of steam -carriages ever going above thirty miles an hour, just
as, a few years before, the very friends of Stephenson had ridiculed the idea
of a speed that should exceed ten. But the doctor had this advantage ; he
was really and truly a scientific man, and demonstrated his opinion as irre-
fragably as any proposition of Euclid, when lo and behold the scorner was
again rebuked by fact. In the midst of his jeers, the machine showed it
was very possible to double the utmost degree of speed he had allowed.
" Ibi omnis effusus labor." It is true that this extreme attempt at velocity
has not everywhere been repeated, but its being done is quite enough
to put a whole battalion of LL.D.'s to the rout ; and we therefore abide by
our hopes of the atmospheric railway, the rather from not having any shares
in the locomotive speculations. If we had, it might materially influence our
judgment, as it does that of many other honest folks, great admirers of the
things and powers that be.
We have now briefly traced the history of the great railway experiment in
conjunction with the steam-engine. It might be deemed presumptuous to
attempt calculating on what are likely to be the future results of this extra-
ordinary combination ; yet it is hardly possible to refrain altogether from
some pleasant dreams of the time when by the agency of steam, both on
land and water, the prejudices that now separate the various families of
mankind shall be worn away, and their various habits so assimilated, that
they may all form, if not one people, at least a confederation of nations. That
it will do this there can be little doubt, but we think it is destined to do
much more ; if machinery goes on at its present rapid pace for another
century, superseding much of the necessity of human labour, it is quite clear
78
TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.
that the present forms of society, which grew out of other circumstances,
must be broken up and remoulded, though the wildest imagination may fail
to picture what shape it will finally assume. In the meanwhile we have
only to comfort ourselves with the old maxim, that " every thing is for the
best."
A ROMAUNCH BALLAD.*
Eau volg bain alia mia bella,
Ed ell eir vuol bain a mi,
Na nel muond nonais co ella
Che plaschar m'poassa pli.
Nus vivains in allegria,
In plaischarlu uniun,
Non sentin otra fadia,
Co nel temp ch' eau 1'abbandun.
Ma noass cours taunt s'assumaglien,
Ella vuol quistque ch' eau vo j
E pissers ma non s'travaglien,
Quelo laschains nus a sien lo.
D'el sutur eis 1'amatura
Ed eir eau unguota main ;
El trampelg va tust suot sura
Cura chia nus duos sutain.
Escha sun con otr' intraischia
Us olqs m'ho ladieu adoss
Ma ella no'ls ditumar laischia
Ne d'oters vuol ne tuchiar Toss.
Escha vein la generala
Cuerr in prest a la pigliar
L' accompang na be mar schiala
Ma in stuva poass entrar.
Edu allr ch' ungiens non sainten
Chiosas dischains da taunt dalef ,
Che noass cuors quasi s'alguainten
Per amur e per affet.
Sch'un colomb eis ella prisa
Inuozainta sch un agne
Eis miviglia, eis bendisa
Eis per amur, eis pura fe.
Taunt ardeinte eis sia ogliseda
E taunt tener eis sien cour,
Scha Weinsberg fass assedia3da
Ella gniss a m' portar our.
I love a little rustic beauty,
And dearly loves this beauty me ;
In the whole world there is no maiden
Can give me half such joy as she.
We live always in sweet communion,
In smiles and gladness of the heart,
We know no hour of gloom or sorrow,
But that sad hour which bids us part.
Our minds are one, our hopes and wishes,
What please me gives her delight,
We have no little tiffs or poutings ;
All these long since have ta'en their flight,
* The Romaunch language is a dialect of the Tyrol.
A ROMAUNCH BALLAD. 79
This charming girl is fond of dancing ;
And / love dancing for her sake,
The rest behold us both with envy,
When in the sets our place we take.
If e'er I meet some other partner,
On me her charming eyes still shine,
No other wins her glance of beauty,
She'll clasp no other hand than mine.
When all clap hands, and dance is over,
I run at once to her dear side,
Not merely down the steps escorting, ^
But her sweet footsteps homeward guide.
How sweetly, gently, then conversing,
We pass the moonlit hours away,
Our hearts grow one in fond affection
Love warming all we think and say.
No dove is softer than this maiden,
No lamb more innocent, I ween,
Playful and kind, religious, beauteous,
No lovelier virgin e'er was seen.
Her eyes are bright and full of courage,
Her heart is mine so faithfully,
If Weinsberg were in mortal danger
She'd run to save, or die with me.
E. KENEALY.
80
THEATRES.
THE OPERA STILL AT ITS ZENITH.
HER Majesty's Theatre continues the centre of attraction to the whole
fashion of London : the excitement created by the surpassing merit of
Jenny Lind has no wise abated, and every night of her performance the
house is invaded by a multitude — by a perfect mass of admirers. Never did
singer before make impression like this. The name, and the fame of Jenny
Lind form the topic of conversation universally, unceasingly. Each new
character she impersonates is another triumph : each repetition adds fresh
laurels to that crown of harmony which now belongs to her alone. " La
Figlia del Reggimento," " La Sonnambula," " Norma," are repeated again
and again amid enthusiasm and delight. So complete is the excellence of
Jenny Lind, as the heroine in each of these operas, that it becomes impos-
sible to give the preference to any one of them. " Norma," considering the
difficulty she had to contend with, is perhaps the greatest wonder she has
achieved. The first night of her acting Norma was distinguished by a state
visit from the Queen. It was a glorious occasion for her Majesty's Theatre.
The aspect of the house was magnificent. The Royal box, surmounted by
a crown, was hung with crimson velvet, fringed with gold ; the decorations
extended to the boxes on the right and left, which held the ladies and gen-
tlemen of the suite. Two yeomen, according to ancient custom, stood on
the stage in front of the regal presence. Her Majesty and Prince Albert,
who was dressed in fall uniform, arrived exactly at eight o'clock, which was
the signal for the commencement of the national anthem. The brilliant
assemblage in the boxes, the richness of the dresses, the abundance of
jewels worn by the fair visitors, produced a superb spectacle when the whole
company rose. Nor was the enthusiasm less than the splendour. Accla-
mations were uttered on all sides, and handkerchiefs were waved in all direc-
tions at the end of the anthem.
The peculiarity in Mademoiselle Jenny Lind's Norma is, that she makes
the fiercer features of the character less prominent than her predecessors,
but the portions that illustrate the tender affections much more so. Norma
may be interpreted two ways. The jealous rage into which she breaks when
she discovers that Adalgisa is the object of Pollio's love, the frenzy which
tempts her to kill her children, may be so brought forward that the feminine
nature is almost forgotten, and still a very fine impressive performance may
be the result, But Norma, in spite of her violence, is a tender mother and
an affectionate daughter ; her last wish before death is to be reconciled to her
father, and obtain his promise to protect her children. These are the pecu-
liarities which Jenny Lind seizes, and hence the great delicacy of her read-
ing. She gives the Celtic priestess a deep impress of mournfulness, she
makes one think rather of the pain she is forced to endure than of the im-
placable resentment she harbours. Nothing could be more deeply sorrowful
than the " Qua! cor tradisti" in tfas finale, — it is the perfection of intense re-
proach. The by-play throughout is most refined, — a by-play all illustrative of
the softer treatment of the character.
It is of course unnecessary to descant on the singing of Jenny I.-ind in
Norma, for that is perfection past description. Her voice in'' Casta Diva"
" Deh ! con te" " Si fino" falls upon enraptured ears,
THEATRES. 81
like the sweet south
That breathes upon a bank of violets
Stealing and giving odour.
With regard to the " Figlia del Reggimento," the graceful walk
so military, and withal so feminine — the completely natural air, make Jenny
Lind's " Maria " one of the most charming exhibitions that can be conceived.
The Swedish airs which Mademoiselle Lind first sung in private at Bucking-
ham Palace, and then introduced in public, exhibit her in a new light. The melo-
dies themselves are of a singular character, constantly awakening the
reminiscence of other national airs, and as constantly causing the re-
miniscence to fade away. Now they seem to touch the old English ballad,
and now to border on Swiss peculiarism. Simplicity is not their character-
istic ; they are marked by difficult intervals — the key is suddenly changed,
and they have less of the tune form than most compositions of the popular
class. The melancholy and the joyous strangely intermix, the pathetic and
the coquetish balance each other, so that one scarcely knows which pre-
dominates. But the charm is not so much in the airs as in Mademoiselle
Jenny Lind's manner of singing them. This is distinguished by exquisite
naivete. She Sports heedlessly with the melody, and thus gives it the effect
of playful spontaneousness. A sort of winning light-heartedness continually
displays itself, and produces the effect of true exhiliration.
The Ballet department of her Majesty's Theatre is now eminently filled :
there are Carlotta Grisi, and Rosati, and Cerito, the three appearing night after
night. At any other time their combined attraction would have been all in
all sufficient, but now, though they are as perfect as ever ; though in opera, too
the glorious tones of Lablache reverberate in their full pomp, and the sweet
notes of Gardoni speak in exquisite melody, yet thought or talk is but of
Jenny Lind — of Jenny Lind alone, the unrivalled, the unapproachable. That
worthy and quaint old poet Geoffrey Chaucer tells us, in a ballad, how he
forsook his bed to listen to the nightingale, and how enraptured he was :
I heard in the next bush beside
A nightingale so lustily sing,
That with her clere voice she made ring
Through all the greene wood wide.
All London seems now to follow the bard's example. Repose is forgotten
the sole consideration is the ecstasy produced by the clere voice of the
nightingale of London.
THE FRENCH THEATRE.
Monsieur Bouffe', one of the greatest actors of France is now performing
at the St. James's Theatre. His Gamin de Paris, his Michel Perrin, and his
miser in " La Fille de 1'Avare " display talent of the very highest order.
Wit and pathos, recklessness and hard-heartedness — virtue and vice are
alike vividly, powerfully true, with this admirable comedian. There is also
here a Mademoiselle Duverger, an actress of the lively school, who might
be equally put forward as a model of excellence in her pleasant, and fasci-
nating^ department of the histrionic art. The greatest value of the St.
James's Theatre is that it produces in rapid and rich succession, upon one
stage, actors and actresses who, even in Paris, can be only seen by going to
a dozen different theatres. We have here the very cream of the drama of
France. An announcement states that the season is to conclude with the
appearance of Rachel— that brightest of all Gallia's constellations.
VOL. IV. NO. XV.
82
LITERATURE.
MEMOIRS OP VISCOUNTESS SUNDON, MISTRESS OF THE ROBES TO QUEEN
CAROLINE, CONSORT OF GEORGE II. ; including letters from the most
celebrated persons of her time : now first published from the originals,
by MRS. THOMPSON, author of " The Life of the Duchess of Marlborough,"
" Memoirs of the Court of Henry VIII." In two volumes. Henry Col-
burn, Great Marlborough Street, 1847.
THIS is a very valuable addition to the able historical memoirs already
published by Mrs. Thompson. Among the past Queens consort or regnant
of England, few rank higher than Caroline wife of George II. To her wise
influence, and active administration, the house of Hanover owes not a little
its permanent establishment on the throne of this country : her sagacity
protected the new dynasty from its enemies, and her amiability first made
it agreeable to the people. Indeed, from the accession of her well disposed but
lethargic husband, to the period of her own death, the government was more
or less continually confided to her controul. The history of such a princess
must therefore prove of more than common interest, and especially so, when
given in the memoirs of a person so closely attached to her person and for-
tunes as her favourite, the Viscountess Sundon is known to have been.
But we had better refer to Mrs. Thompson's own account of this book in
her preface : it runs as follows :
"The materials of this work are supplied, chiefly, from a Collection of Autograph
Letters addressed to CHARLOTTE CLAYTON, VISCOUNTESS SUNDON. This
Lady was attached to the Court of our first Hanoverian Sovereign, being Lady of
the Bedchamber, and eventually Mistress of the Robes, to Caroline, Princess of
Wales, afterwards Queen-Consort of George the Second. Lady Sundon, long
before her husband's elevation to the Peerage, and whilst she retained the appella-
tion by which she is mentioned in much of the correspondence of the day — that of
Mrs. Clayton — attained such a degree of influence over -her Royal Mistress, as
perhaps had hardly ever been enjoyed by any female favourite since the days of
Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. It is not surprising, therefore, that the Letters
given in the present Work should contain applications "from individuals of every
rank and profession. Nor where the higher orders among her own sex backward
in soliciting her aid, or in courting — but seldom without a selfish motive — her
regard,"
Mrs. Thompson thus describes Queen Caroline.
" From her earliest connexion with the Hanoverian family, Caroline had been
resolved to govern the Prince to whom she was affianced, in an ill assorted union,
with a gentle but firm hand. Independently of her powerful understanding, her
personal advantages tended to ensure this object. She was, at the time of her
marriage, extremely^ handsome ; and, even after the ravages of the small-pox,
which occurred shortly afterwards, retained a countenance replete with animation,
exhibiting, at will, either mildness or majesty ; * and her penetrating eyes,' ob-
serves one who had often gazed upon her,* ' expressed whatever she had a mind
they should.' Her voice was melodious, her hands were beautifully formed, and
her actions were graceful.
* Horace Walpole.
I
LITERATURE. 83
(t These charms were continually acknowledged, and extolled, by the gross and
illiterate monarch, who could admire the beauty of her form, and delight in her
personal advantage*, but who was wholly incapable of appreciating her love of
letters, which he discouraged, or her generosity, which he opposed, while forcing
her to bear the odium of his avarice.
" The extreme devotion of the Queen to her consort has been by some ascribed
to ambition, — to the love of ascendancy ; others, more amiable, have ventured to
couple it with aifection. If we may give entire credit to the religious sentiments
of Caroline, we may set it down as the effect of a strong sense of duty ; and, in-
deed, it is scarcely possible that any less cogent motive could have actuated a
woman, during the course of an union of thirty years, to an incessant sacrifice of
self-will, to the most differential respect, the most entire acquiescence, than a con-
viction that such sacrifices were required by her nuptial bonds. ' Her children,'
she declared, ' were not as a grain of sand to her, compared with him ;' and she
marked these extreme notions of duty on her death-bed."
The opera in those days, as at the present time, seems to have engaged the
attention of royalty. Then, as now, the cabals of the musical world were
apt to move the whole orb of fashion.
" The following letter/' says Mrs. Thompson, " contains a curious illustration of
the times, in its reference to the commotion which occurred at the Italian Opera,
when the Princess Amelia happened to be present. The object of public dis-
approbation was Signora Cuzzoni ; but that favourite singer having a powerful
body of friends in the house, a struggle took place between the two parties,
which caused the greater part of the performance to be in ' inexplicable dumb
show/ This letter affords a curious instance of the participation of the most
illustrious personages of the realm in the cabals of the Italian Opera, which had
not then been introduced more than half a century into England.
COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
"DEAR MADAM,
" I hope you will forgive the trouble I am going to give you, having al-
ways found you on every occasion most obliging. What I have to desire is, that
if you find a convenient opportunity, I wish you would be so good as to tell her
Royal Highness, that every one who wishes well to Cuzzoni is in the utmost con-
cern for what happened last Tuesday at the Opera, in the Princess Amelia's pre-
sence ; but to show their innocence of the disrespect which was shown to her
Highness, I beg you will do them the justice to say, that the Cuzzoni had been
publicly told, to complete her disgrace, she was to be hissed off the stage on
Tuesday ; she was in such concern at this, that she had a great mind not to sing,
but I, without knowing anything that the Princess Amelia would honour the
Opera with her presence, positively ordered her not to quit the stage, but let them
do what they would : though not heard, to sing on, and not to go off till it was
proper ; and she owns now that if she had not had that order she would have
quitted the stage when they cat- called her to such a degree in one song, that she
was not heard one note, which provoked the people that like her so much, that
they were not able to get the better of their resentment, but would not suffer the
Faustina to speak afterwards. I hope her Royal Highness would not disapprove
of any one preventing the Cuzzoni' s being hissed off the stage ; but I am in great
concern they did not suffer anything to have happened to her, rather than to have
failed in the high respect every one ought to pay to a Princess of her Royal
Highness's family ; but as they were not the aggressors, I hope that may in some
measure excuse them.
" Another thing I beg you would say is, that I, having happened to say that
the Directors would have a message from the King, and that her Royal Highness
had told me that his Majesty had said to her, that if they dismissed Cuzzoni they
should not have the honour of his presence, or what he was pleased to allow them
some of the Directors have thought fit to say that they neither should have a
84 LITERATURE."
message from the King, and that he did not say what her Royal Highness did
me the honour to tell me he did. I most humbly ask her Royal Highness' s par-
don for desiring the Duke of Rutland (who is one of the chief amongst them for
Cuzzoni) to do himself the honour to speak of it to her Royal Highness, and hear
what she would be so gracious to tell him. They have had also a message from
the King, in a letter from Mr. Fabrice, which they have the insolence to dispute,
except the Duke of Rutland, Lord Albemarle, and Sir Thomas Pendergrass. Lady
Walsingham having desired me to let her know how this affair went, I have writ-
ten to her this morning, and, at the Duke of Rutland's desire, have sent an
account of what was done at the Board, for her to give his Majesty.
As I have interested myself for this poor woman, so I will not leave anything
undone that may justify her ; and if you will have the goodness to state this affair
to her Royal Highness, whom I hope will still continue her most gracious protec-
tion to her, I shall be most extremely obliged to you, that am,
Dear Madam,
With the most sincere friendship,
Your most affectionate
humble servant,
M. PEMBROKE.
These memoirs of Lady Sundon contain indeed a perfect fund of historical
amusement.
85
BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS.
Adams, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Herbert Geo. Adams,
of a dau. 29th May.
Alexander, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Carlton House
Terrace, llth June.
Allen, Mrs. wife of George Baugh Allen, Esq. of a
son, 9th June.
Anderson, Mrs. Major, of a son, at Clifton, 27th
May.
Arkwright, Mrs. wife of Alfred Arkwright, Esq. of a
dau. at Worksworth, co. Derby, 6th June.
Bacon, Mrs. wife of the Rev. John Bacon, of a son,
at Lambourne, Woodlands, Berks, 31st May.
Baggallay, Mrs. John, of a son, at Tavistock Square,
llih June.
Baillie, Hon. Mrs. Henry, of a dau. 1st June.
Barlow, Mrs. W. H. of a son, at Derby, 2Qth May.
Barton, Mrs. Daniel, of a son, at Edinburgh, 29th
May.
Bell, Mrs. Sydney Smith, of a son, at Regent's Park
Terrace, 28th May.
Bennett, Mrs. Wm. Sterndale, of a son, llth June.
Benthall, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Furzwell House,
Torquay, 26th May.
Berkeley, Mrs. Comyns Rowland, of a son, 30th
May.
Bevir, Mrs. E. J., of a son, at Woburn Square, 2nd
June.
Biggs, Mrs. wife of John Biggs, Esq. H. M. 8th
Kegt. of a dau. at Poona, 21st April.
Braithwaite, Mrs. Robt. of a dau. at Kendal, 6th
June.
Bright, Mrs. wife of James Bright, Esq. M. D. of a
dau. 27th May.
Browell, Mrs. wife of the Rev. James Browell, M. A.
of a dau. 16th June.
Brown, Mrs. wife of R. Brown, Esq. M,D. of a dau.
at Kevernalls, near Lymington, 28th May.
Bryant, Mrs. George, at Park-street, Islington, of
a son, 1st June.
Buckle, Mrs.widow of Capt. Edmund Buckle, Bengal
Art. of a son, 3rd June.
Calland, Mrs. John Forbes, of a dau. at Paris, 28th
May.
Charteris, Lady Anne, of a son, 2nd June.
Charters, Mrs. Major, of a dau. at Padua, 18th
May.
Clarke, Mrs. W. Gray, of a dau. at Tours, 10th
June.
Cliff, Mrs. William, of a dau. at Brompton, 16th
June.
Cosser, Mrs.wife of the Rev.W. M. Cosser, of a son,
at Tichfield. 30th May.
Crosse, Mrs. Edward Wilson, of a dau. at Torring-
ton Square, 2nd June.
Crosthwaite, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. C. Crosth-
waite, of a dau. 3rd June.
De la Motte, Mrs. wife of Edward De la Motte, of
the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, of a
dau. SlstJMay.
Douglas, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Alexander Douglas,
of a son, at Harley-street, 12th June.
Downe, the Viscountess, of a son, 15th June.
Drew, Mrs. wife of the Rev. G. S. Drew, Incum-
bent of old St. Pancras, of a son, 13th June.
Du Ruisson, Mrs. James, of Wandsworth, of a
dau. 1st June.
Ellis, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Robt. Stephenson
Ellis, M. A. of a dau. at Copenhagan, 30th May.
Esdaile, Mrs. Clement, of a dau. 29th May.
Farmer, Mrs. W. F. G. of a son, at Nonsuch Park,
Surrey, 26th May.
Fennell, Mrs. Edwin, of a dau. at Wimbledon, 25th
May.
Frost, Mrs. wife of Andrew Hollingworth Frost,
Esq. M. A. of a son, 8th June.
Giberne, Mrs. George, of a dau. at Epsom, 7th June.
Gipps, Mrs. H. P. of a son, at Montague Place,
4th June.
Goddard. Mrs. George H. of a dau. at John-street,
4th June.
Godden, Mrs. of Watford, Herts, of a dau. 21st
May.
Godley, Mrs. John Robert, of a son, at Portman
Square, 17th June.
Graham, Mrs. Wm. of a dau. at Castle Milk, co.
Lanark, 6th June.
Granet, Mrs. Captain, of a son, 26th May.
Gruner, Mrs. Lewis, of a dau. at Fitzroy Square,
31st May.
Heathcote, Mrs. Francis, of a dau. 29th May.
Herring, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. Harvey Herring,
of a son, 5th June.
Inchbald, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at WestWickham,
Kent, 12th June.
Jackson, Mrs. J. D. of a son, at Saffron Waldron,
5th June.
Jackson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. John Jackson, Rec-
tor of St. James', of a dau. 29th May.
Kerry, Countess of, of a dau. 27th May.
Kinglake, Mrs. Ssrjeant, of a dau. at Eaton Square,
15th June.
Kinlock, Mrs. wife of J. J. Kinlock, of Kair, of a
dau. Srd^June.
Laurie, Mrs. John, of a son. at Hyde Park-phsce,
31st May.
Lyttleton, Lady, of a son, 12th June.
Mac Leod, wifs of Capt. Norman Mac Leod, Ben-
gal Engineers, of a dau. at South Crescent, Bed-
ford-square.
Majoribanks, Mrs. Edward, jun. of a son, 13th
June.
Marston, Mrs. Thomas, of a son, at Ampthill
Square, 2nd June.
Martin, Mrs. Wm. of Hyde Park Square, of a son,
29th May.
Masterman, Mrs. Henry, of a son, 26th May.
Oakes, Mrs. Col. R. M. of a son, at Dineham
Lodge, Norfolk, 6th June.
Oliver, Mrs. wife of J. R. Oliver, Esq. M.D. of a
son, at Kennington, 10th June.
Peake, Mrs. Robert William, of Lleweny House,
New Finchley Road, of a dau. 28th May.
Pelly, Mrs. Albert, of a son, at Walthamstow,
29th May.
Phillips, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Gloucester Villa,
Regent's Park, 10th June.
Place, Mrs. F. W. of a dau. at Delhi, East Indies,
19th April.
86
BIRTHS MARRIAGES.
\vlinson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. George rtawlin-
i, of a dau. at Merton, 7th June.
Kind, Mrs. wife of Malcolm M'Neill Rind, Esq. Taylor, Mrs. Wilbraham, of a son, 27th May.
Taylor. Mrs. James, of Mechlenburgh Square, of a
son, 10th June,
Ben. Med. Est. of a son, at Lucknow,28th March
Rivers, Lndy, of a dau. 24th May.
Robertson, Mrs. of a son, at Albermarle-street,
28th May.
Rowland, Mrs. wife of Capt. J. H. Rowland, J. N,
of a dau. 2nd June.
Boyle, Mrs. wife of Dr.|Royle, Professor King's Col-
Jege, of a son, 8th June.
Salmond, Mrs. James, of a son, atWaterfoot, Cum-
berland, 1 6th June.
Saunders, Mrs. John, of a son, at Southend, 2nd
une.
Sharpe, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Walthara Cross
10th June.
Sheppard, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Wm. Sheppard, o
a dau. at Florena Court, co. Fernian 28th May
Skinner, Mrs. wife of Allan Maclain Skinner, Esq.
Barister-at-Law, of a dau. at Brighton, 7th June.
Scares, Mrs. M. J. of a dau. at Fitzroy-Squre, 3rd
June.
Spicer, Mrs. John W. Gooch, of a dau. at Coth-
more, 26th May.
Stillwell, Mrs. Arthur, of a son, at Hillingdon,
6th June.
Sutherland, Mrs. Alexander John, of a son, 5th
Swindell, Mrs. J. G. of a dau, at Kilburn Priory,
„. 4th June.
feake, Mrs. Robt. William, of Llewy House, New
Finchley Road, of a dau. 28th May.
Tickell. Mrs. Major-Gen, of a dau. 24th May.
Titcomb, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. T. Titcomb, of
a dau. at Cambridge, 10th June.
Todd, Mrs. Joseph, of a dau. at Mousley Park,
Surrey, 2nd June.
Tuffnell, Mrs. E. Carleton, of a son, 13th June.
Turner, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Sydney Turner, of a
dau. 1st June.
Turner, Mrs. Marshall, of a son, at Torrington Sq.
29th May.
Tyndall, Mrs. T. O. of a dau. at the Fort, Bristol,
13th June.
Unwin, Mrs. wife of W. Unwin, Esq. of a son, at
Putney, 6th June.
Vardy, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Charles Fox Vardy,
M. A. of a dau. 6th June.
West, Mrs. William Thornton, of a dau. at Clap-
ham Park, 2;th May.
Willoughby, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Wollaton
Rectory, 13th June.
Winkworth, Mrs. Stephen, of a dau. at Purbrook
Lodge, Hants, 25th May.
Winter, Mrs. wife of Charles Winter, Esq. late Capt.
66th Regiment, of a dau. 15th June.
Wood, Lady Mary, of a dau. 27th May.
Woodhouse, Mrs. Henry R. of a son, 16th June.
Aspinall, Henry [Kelsall, youngest son of the late
;, John Aspinall, Esq., of Birkenhead, to Margaret,
only daughter of John Haselden, Esq., of Rock
Ferry, 8th June.
Athill, the Rev. William, of Brandistone-hall,
county of Norfolk, and Sub- Dean of the
Collegiate Church of Middleham, in York-
shire, to Caroline Amelia Halsted, only daughter
of the late Captain John Halsted, R.N., 8th
June.
Baird, Charles J. Esq., late of Shptts, to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of John Haliday, Esq., of St.
Petersburgh, llth May.
Banks, William , Esq., of London, to Miss Mar-
garet Banks, of Snelston, 15th June.
Blackeney, John, Esq., of Bedford-row, to Sarah,
eldest daughter of Henry Lamb, Esq. of Havrley,
Kent, 10th June.
Blackburn, Robert B., Esq., son of the late John
Blackburn, Esq., of Killearn, in the county of
Stirling, to Francis Georgina, youngest daughter
of the late Rev. Edward Dewing, rector of Rain-
ham, in Norfolk, 10th June.
Bladon, Edward, Esq., of Warwick-square, Ken-
sington, to Louisa, eldest daughter of Charles
Whiting, Esq., of Grove-road, Brixton, 10th
June.
Bliss, Frederick, Esq., of Pensile-house, Glouces-
tershire, youngest son of the late Thomas Bliss,
Esq., of Herne-hill, Surrey, to Caroline, third
daughter of the late Samuel Charles Turner,
Esq., of Child Okeford, in the county of Dorset,
10th June.
Bloxam. Robert W lliam, Esq., of Ryde, to Henri-
etta Louisa, only child of the late Henry Lock,
Esq., of the Hon. E.I.C.S., and granddaughter
of the late Vice-Admiral Lock, of Haylands, Isle
of Wight, 10th June.
Ho/uior, the Rev. R. M., vicar of Ruabon, Den-
bighshire, to Ellen, daughter of the l«ite John
Wood, Esq., of Worthing, 8th June.
Boyrenson, Thomas Adolphus, Esq., M.D., of the
Hon. Company's Bombay Army, to Augusta
Marianne, only daughter of the late Francis
Swinfen, Esq., of Lapley, Stafford, 5th June.
Bright, John, Esq., of Rochdale, M.P., to
Margaret Elizabeth, eldest daughter of the late
William Leatham, Esq., banker, Wakefield, 10th
June.
Broughton, Robert John Porcher, Esq., M.A.,
eldest son of Robert Edwards Broughton, Esq.,
of Melcombe-place, to Louisa Diana, eldest
daughter of Charles Heaton Ellis, Esq., of
Harley-street and Wyddial-hall, Herts, 3rd June.
Browne, Henry J., Esq., of Wilmington-square,
London, surgeon, (late of Hampton, in the
county of Worcester), to Elizabeth, younger
daughter of the late James Coucher, Esq., of
Alfrick, in the same county, 25th May.
Burgess, Arthur James, eldest son of John Hartley
Burgess, Esq., of St. Heliers, Jersey, to Jane,
youngest daughter of the late John Slade, Esq.,
of Devizes, Wilts, 5th June.
Burrell, Walter Wyndham, youngest son of Sir
Charles Merrick Burrell, of Knepp Castle, in the
county of Sussex, to Dorothea, youngest dau. of
the Rev. John Jones, vicar of Burley-on-the-Hill,
Rutlandshire, 10th June.
Carrow, John Monson, Esq., eldest son of the late
Rev. Richard Carrow, of Redland, Glocester-
shire, to Frances Gertrude, daughter of Edmund
Broderip, Esq., of the Manor-house, Cossing-
ton, 26th May.
Caulfeild, W. Montgomerie S., Esq., Lieut, of the
66th Regiment, son of Capt. James Caulfeild,
R.N., to Dora Jane, daughter of Wm. French,
of Clooniquine, county of Roscommon, and of
Fitzwilliam-Bquare, Dublin, Esq., 8th June.
MARRIAGES.
87
Chambers, Joseph, Esq., of the Bengal Army, to
Maria, eldest daughter of the Rev. Sir Juhn
Page Wood, Bart., 10th June.
Clifford, Charles, Esq., eldest son of George Clif-
ford, Esq., of Wycliffe-hall, Yorkshire, to Mary
Ann, third daughter of John Hercy, Esq., of
Hawthorn hill, Berkshire, 13th Jan.
Cochrane, James, Esq., of her Majesty's IQth
Regiment, to Mary, daughter of Thomas Gibson
Brewer, Esq., of Elm-lodge, Pinner, Middlesex,
and Portland-place, Jersey, barrister- at- law, 10th
June.
Collette, Henry, Esq., Capt. 67th Regiment, eldest
son of the Major General J. H. Collette, to
Katherine, youngest daughter of the late Thos.
Sharp, Esq., Manchester, 25th May.
Colman, George A. Esq., youngest son of the
late W. Colman, Esq., of Shirley,! to Frederica
Eleanor Lang, second surviving daughter of Dr.
Lang, of Bedford-square, and Newman-street,
9th June.
Cooke, the Rev. Wm., B.A., fourth son of Thos.
Cooke, Esq., of Goresfield, near Manchester, tJ
Fanny, second daughter of the late Rev. G. J.
Haggitt, of Bury St. Edmund's, 27th May.
Cope, Charles Rogers, Esq., of Harbourne, Staf-
fordshire, to Sarah Ann, eldest daughter of the
late Edward Rickards, Esq., l6th June.
Cousin, the Rev. Wm., of the Presbyterian Church,
Chelsea, to Anne Ross, daughter of the late
David Ross Cundell, Esq., M.D., 15th June.
Crosley, Benjamin Charles, only son of he late
Benjamin Ashward Crosley, Esq., of Great
James-street, Bedford-row, to Mary Ann, third
daughter of John Mountfield, Esq., of Great
Coram-street, Russell-square, 15th June.
Curry, Capt. Douglas, R.N., son of Vice-Admiral
Curry, C.B., to Elizabeth, second daughter of
Edward Castleman, Esq., of Allandale-hoase,
Wimborne, and of Chettlc, Dorset, 10th June.
Daly, Owen, Esq., M.D. and B.A., second son of
the late E. Daly, Esq., of .Mornington-hall,
Westmeath, Ireland, to Emma Maria, yonngest
daughter of the late Thomas Oldham, Esq., of
Saltrleetby St. Peter's.
Dundas, Frederick, Esq., M.P., son of the late
Hon. Charles Lawrence and Lady Caroline
. Dundas, to Grace, eldest daughter of Lady
Grace and the late Sir Ralph Gore, Bart., 2nd
June.
Eaton, the Rev. Walter, M.A., of Merton College,
Oxford, to Isabella, youngest daughter of G. F.
Iddius, Esq., of the Woodrow, Worcestershire,
14th June.
Edwards, James, Esq., M.D., to Eliza Ellen, dau.
of the late Jonathan Smith, Esq., 8th June.
Everett, Marven, youngest son of the late Wm.
Marven Everett, Esq., Heytesbury, Wiltshire, to
Maria, eldest daughter of Mill Pellatt, Esq.,
Plaistow, Essex, 15th June.
Fox, the Rev. R. Stole, youngest son of George
Townsend Fox, Esq., of Durham, to Mrs. Robt.
Day, eldest .daughter of the late Rev. W
Bassett, of Nether-hall, in the county of Suffolk
9ih June.
Frere, A. E., Esq., Lieut, in her Majesty's 24th
Regiment, to Miss Elizabeth Palmer, daughter
of Quartermaster James Price, of the tame
regiment, llth Jan.
Frost, Chas. Maynard, Esq., of Ladbroke Grove
Netting Hill, third son of the late Roht. Frost,
Esq , of the Hon. E.I.C.S., to Emma, youngest
•_ daughter of the late James Adams, Esq., o;
Plaistow, Essex, 10th June,
Gale, Robert Leake, Esq., eldest son of Thomas
Augustus Gale, Esq., of Queen-square, Blooms-
bury, London, to Mary Ellen, eldest daughter of
Wm. Radcliff, Esq., of Amherst Island, IQtb
May.
Gayton, George, Esq., of Much Hadham, Herts, t
Sarah Anne, eldest surviving daughter of Thos.
Samuel Mott, Esq., of the same place. May 29th.
Gilstrap, Win., cldestsonof Joseph Gilstrap, Eai|.,
of Newark- ou-trent, Notts, to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of Thomas Haigh, Esq., of
Colne Bridge-house, Huddersfield, 2nd June.
Girsewald, Baron A., Aide-de-Camp to his Royal
Highness the reigning Duke of Brunswick, to
Annie Fector Munro, daughter of the late Gene-
ral Munro, Novar-lodge, Cheltenham, 1st June,
ranville, the Rev. Court, to Lady Charlotte Mur-
"ray, sister of the Duke of Atholl, 10th June.
Grover, Charles Ehret, Esq., of Kernel Hamp-
stead, Herts, to Jane, youngest daughter of the
late Wm. Stanley, Esq., of Maryland point,
Essex, 1st June.
Hallett, Henry Hughes, Esq., of Staple- Inn," to
Bridget Ann, second daughter of Charleg Wm.
~ Hallett, Esq., of Surbiton-lodge, Kingston, 15th
June.
Harris, John Hull Walton, Esq., to Ann, relict of
the late Thomas Martin Cocksedge, Esq., of the
The Hills, Bury St. Edmund's, 12th June.
Henry, Win. G. P., Esq., second son of Thomas
Henry, Esq., of Bush-hill, Middlesex, to
Alice, second daughter of the late John Home
Scott, Esq., 8th June.
Hicks, Wm. John, Esq., son of the late Lieut-
Col. Join Hicks, Esq., to Katherine Forbes,
eldest daughter of the late Major- General Hogg,
Bombay Army, 10th June.
ffilton, the Rev. Henry Dennie, B.A., curate of
St. Margarett's, and son of the Rev. John Hilton,
M.A., of Star Court, Kent, to Anne Jane, elder
daughter of the Rev. Jemson Davies, M.A., vicar
of St. Nicholas, and confrater of Wigston's
Hospital, Leicester, 3rd June.
Hutchings, Hubert, Esq., to Geraldine Laura,
third daughter of Lady Elizabeth Baker, and
sister of Sir Edward B. Baker, Bart., of Ran-
ston, Dorset. 10th June.
Innes, Captain G., Royal Artillery, to Frances
Caroline, widow of the late Hamilton Gyll, Esq.,
and daughter of Sir John Murray, of Stanhope,
Bart., 3rd June.
Jarrett, Mr. Griffith, fourth son of J. Jarrett, Esq.,
Glasfryn-house, Trawsfynydd, \ to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of the late T. Rowlands,
Llwyngwern, Machynlleth, 26th May.
Kelgour, Wm., Esq., of Liverpool, son of the late
Geo. Kilgour, Esq., of Woburn-place, London,
and Balcairn, Aberdeenshire, to Janet Lindsay,
dau. of the late Patrick Smith, Esq., of Glas-
gow, l6th June.
Kirk, Rupert, Esq., of the E.I.C.S., to Elizabeth,
eldest daughter of Robert Womersley, Esq., of
Stratford-green, Essex, 1st June.
Landor, the Rev. Chas. W., vicar of Wichenford,
Worcestershire, to Caroline, youngest daughter
of Wm. Stanton, Esq., of Longbridge-house,
Warwickshire, 8th June.;
Lane, Edward W., Esq., advocate, to Margaret
Mary, youngest daughter of the late Sir Wm.
Drysdale, of Pitteuchar.
Layard, Rev. C. Clement, vicar of Mayfield, Staf-
fordshire, son of the Rev. B. V. Layard, of
Uffington, Lincolnshire, to Sarah, eldest dau. of
the late S. J. Somes, Esq., of Stratl'ord-green,
Essex,, 3rd June.
Lendon, Rev. William Penry, of Monmouth, to
Eliza, eldest daughter of the Rev. E. Withers,
of Bognor, Sussex, 9th June.
Madden, Lewis P., Esq. M.D., son of the late
Lewis P. Madden, Esq. of Clifton, to Ellen, re-
lict of Captain Sir Edward Astley, R.N., of Hay-
selden, Kent, 14th June.
Maxwell, Lieut-Colonel Sir William A., Bart., of
Calderwood , Castle, Lanarkshire, to Catherine
Cameron, relict of the late Captain H. P. Gill,
of the 50th or Queen's Own, and fifth daughter
of the late Walter Logan, Esq., Edinburgh, 15th
June.
Meeson, John, Esq., third son of Thomas Meeson,
Esq. of Stratford, co. Essex, to Anne Maria,
fourth daughter of William Sewell, Esq. of Plai-
stow, in the same county, 1st June.
Monypenny.R.'C.G.Gybbon, Esq., eldest son of T.
Gybbon Moneypenny, Esq. of Hole-house, Kent,
88
MARRIAGES.
to Janet Phillips, eldest daughter of the late
Lieut. -Col. Burney, B.N.I., 2nd June.
Morgan, Henry C. Esq., Lieut, in the King's Dra-
goon Guards, to Selina Louisa, third daughter of
Sir East Clayton-East, of Hall-place, Berks,
Hart.
Nicolson, Sir Fred.W. E., Bart., Captain R.N., to
Mary Clementina Marion, only daughter of James
Loch, Esq., M.P., 26th May.
Nind, Philip Pitt, Esq., son of the late Capt. P. P
Nind, Hon. East India Company's Service, t
Charlotte Johnston, third surviving daughter o
the late Major John Maugham, R.M., 9th June
Oakeley, Henry, Lieut. R.N., fifth son of the late
Rev. Herbert Oakeley, D.D., of Oakeley, Salop
to Emily Letitia, third daughter of the late Col
Trelawney, R.A., and niece of Sir William Salus
bury Trelawney, Bart., 1st June.
Palmer, William James, only son of James Palmer
Esq. of the Close, Lichfield, to Mary Spencer
daughter of Robert Onebye Walker, Esq. o
Bedford-square, Qth June.
Park, Chas. Joseph, eldest son of Charles Park,Esq
of Henbury-house, Dorset, to Ellen Mary, seeonc
dau. of the Rev. Charles Wicksted Ethelston, o
Wicksted-hall, Cheshire, and Uplyme Rectory
Devon, 10th June.
Patient. Ambrose, eldest son of Ambrose Patient
Esq. of Gorton, Wilts, to Henrietta Sophia
youngest daughter of the late William Wyndhsca
Esq. of Dinton-house, Wilts, 5th June.
Ilawlinson, Sir Christopher, eldest surviving son o
John Rawlinson, Esq. of Wimpole - street, to
Georgiana Maria, youngest daughter of the late
Alexander Radcliffe Sidebottom, Esq. of Sloane
street and Lincoln's-inn, 27th June.
Rees, William, Esq. of Falcon Villa, Chelmsford,
to Emma Jane, daughter of Jolm Carne, Esq. of
Tresillion, Trnro, 3rd June.
Kenny, Capt. Thomas, of the Bengal Engineers,
eldest son of Alexander Renny Tailyour, Esq. of
Borrowfield, co. Forfar, to Miss Isabella E. C.
Atkinson, second daughter of the late Adam
Atkinson, Esq. of Lorbottle, co. Northumber-
land, orh June.
Richmond, Daniel, Esq., surgeon, of Paisley, to
; M'Kinnon, daughter of Col.
Henrietta Fullerton
A. F. Richmond, C.B., Resident at the Court of
Oude, Lucknow, East Indies, 2nd June.
Riddell, John Carre, Esq. of Melbourne, Port Phi-
lip, one of the magistrates for the colony, third
son of the late Thomas Riddell, Esq. of Camies-
town, Roxburgh, to Anne, eldest dau. of Sidney
Stephen, Esq. Barrister at Law, Melbourne, 22nd
Oct. 1846.
Kobarts, Rev. Alfred, only son of W. Robarts,
Esq. of Burnham, Bucks, to Eliaa, Glover Moore,
youngest dau. ol the late Rev. John Penketh
Buee, Incumbent of Cawthorne, Yorkshire, 2nd
Esq., late of the India-house, and of Herne-hill,
Surrey, 12th June.
Skrine, Rev. Wadham Huntley, second son of
Henry Skrine, Esq. of Stubbings - house, co.
Berks, and Warleigh, co. Somerset, to Clara
Mary Anne, eldest daughter of William Mills,
Esq. of Great Saxham-hall, Suffolk, 27th May.
Smith, John Esq. of Bydorp-house, Hanwell, to
Emily, only surviving daughter of the late Jasper
Palfrey, Esq* of Finham, Warwickshire, 15th
June.
Springett, Robert, Esq. of Finchcox, Goudhurst,
Kent, to Louisa, daughter of Robert Watkins,
Esq. of Augusta house, Worthing, 27th June.
Stevens, Henry H., to Florance Matilda, eldest
daughter of the late Charles Shannon, Esq. of
Dublin, Barrister-at-law, 10th June.
Suttpn, Thomas Esq., B. A., of Caius College, Cam-
bridge, to Mary, third daughter of the late John
Grace, Esq. of Whitby, near Chester, 8th June.
Thomas, Rev. William, D.D., late senior chaplain-
at Madras, to Mrs. Williams, widow of the Rev.
Richard Williams, prebendary of Lincoln, and
rector of Great Houghton, Northamptonshire, 3d
June.
Thompson, Thomas Kirkby, Esq. ofMecklenburgh-
square, to Harriett Alice, only daughter of the
late J. Turner, Esq. of Ham-house, near Cow-
bridge, Glamorganshire, 5th June.
Thrupp, Rev. Horace W., B.A., of Exeter College.
Oxford, to Gcorgina Theresa, second daughter of
Mr. Pyle, of Barnes terrace, 12th June.
Thuiilier, Henry Landor, Esq. of the Bengal Artil-
lery, Officiating Deputy Survey or- General of In-
dia, to Annie Charlotte, eldest dau. of George
Gordon Macpherson, Esq., 8th April.
Tilt, Edward John, Esq., M.D., of 10, Norfolk -
street, Park lane, to Dorothy Emma, daughter of
the late J. G. Sparrow, Esq of Gosficld-place^
Essex, 27th April.
Jniacke, Rev. Richard John, B.A., of St. Alban's
Hall, Oxford, rector of Newport, to Ann J;me,
youngest daughter of the Venerable Robt. Willis,
D.D., Archdeacon of Nova Scotia, 1st June.
Vagstaff, J., Esq., of Lullington, near Burton-on
Trent, to Fanny, fourth daughter of John Mt-e,
Esq. East Retford, 3rd June.
Valker, Henry, son of Henry Walker, Esq. of
Hampton-wick, to Sarah Ann, daughter of James
Payne, Esq., High-street, Marylebone, 27th June.
Wells, Capt. Francis Charles, of the 15th Bombay
Native Infantry, to Barbara Emilia Susanna,
daughter of Robert Thurnburn, Esq. of Alexan-
dria, llth May.
Wickenden, Thomas, eldest son of Thomas Wick-
enden, Esq. of Frindsbury, Kent, to Maria, young-
est daughter of Charles Harries, Esq. of Feu-
church-street and Guildford - street, llussei-sq
, 5th June.
June. (Wilson, G. V. , Esq.. of White-house, Killybegs,
Robinson, Charles Edward, Esq., io Mary, daugh- co. Donegal, Ireland, to Sophia, youngest dau.
ofS. Sheldon, Esq., 10th June, '
Wilson, Rev. Benjamin, to Fanny Sherard, second
daughter of the late Caryer bherard, Esq. 15th
i*wuiu*vs*j vuai ico .raunaiu, juaij., iti J
ter of the late Robert Brown llussel", Esq." of
Streatham, Surrey, 3d June.
Rye, Hubert Barnes, only son of Captain George
Hubert Rye, R.N., of Bideford, Devon, to Eliza,
third daughter of Mr. George Daniel, of Canon-
June.
Woolley, Thomas, third son of William Willey,
Esq. of 1'eckham, to Sarah, second daughter of
the late Thomas Kingsley, Esq. of the Grove,
Camberwell, 3rd June.
bury, 25th May.
Santi, Chevalier Charles to Caroline Davie,
second daughter of Sir H. Ferguson Davie,
Bart., 3 1st May. | Wyllie, Stewart Eaton, youngest son of the late
Scott, John, Esq., to Isabella, third daughter of Alexander Wyllie, Esq. of Thames Ditton, Sur-
the late Robert Carnachan, Esq. of Stranracr,! rey, to Jemima, eldest daughter of Samuel Kidd,
Galloway, 5th May. Esq. of Boulogne-sur Mer.
Shoobridgc, T. B., Esq., Craythorne House, Ten- : Zwinger, James, Esq. of Havre, to Leonora, young-
dcrdcn, to Mrs. Ball, widow of James lline Ball,! est daughter of A. A. Micvelle, Esq., of Gower-
i street, Bedford-square, Oth June.
89
Hnnotatett (JMritttarjn
Abdy, Charlotte Georgina, wife of Lieut.
Colonel Abdy, late of the East India
Company's service, on their Madras es-
tablishment, at Boulogne sur Mer, 2nd
June.
Ashby, Harry, Esq. at Plymouth, aged 69,
13th June.
Barstow, James Maltravers, only child of
James Barstow, Esq. Barrister at Law,
aged 11,12th June.
Bates, Charles Chester, youngest son of the
late John Henry Bates, Esq. of Denton,
aged 32, 1st June.
Bayne, William, Esq. J.P. and D.L. for
Middlesex, at Newgrove,?aged 86, llth
June.
Baynes, Captain Thomas, formerly of the
39th and 88th Regiments, at Brussels,
27th May. This veteran served in the
Peninsular campaign, and was present
at Waterloo, where he acted as Aide-
de-Camp to General Sir John Lam-
bert, G.C.B.
Beatson, Catherine B. C. C., second daugh-
ter of the late Major-General Beatson,
of Henley house, Frant, and formerly
Governor of St. Helena, at Edinburgh,
6th June.
Beckett, the Rt. Hon. Sir John, Bart, aged
73, 31st May. Sir John was the eldest
son of Sir John Beckett, Bart, of Somerby
Park, co. Lincoln, and grandson, mater-
nally, of Dr. Wilson, Bishop of Bristol.
He received his education at Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge, and there greatly dis-
tinguished himself, taking a wrangler's
degree in 1795. His first return to Par-
liament was by the Borough of Cocker-
mouth, in 1820. He subsequently sat
for Haslemere, and, finally, represented
the populous town of Leeds. In the
Duke of Wellington's administration he
held the appointments of Judge-Marshal
and Advocate-General ; and during Sir
Robert Peel's short-lived Ministry of
1834 resumed those offices. Politically,
he adhered with firmness to Tory princi-
ples, and voted against the Reform Bill,
the Municipal Corporation Bill, and the
Irish Tithe Measure. He had been a
Privy Councillor since 1817. Sir John
Beckett married in that year Lady Anne
Lowther, daughter of Willium, Earl of
Lonsdale, K.G. but lias died without
issue; the title devolving on his brother,
now Sir Thomas Beckett, Bart, the emi-
nent banker of Leeds.
Bellamy, Fanny Maria, youngest daughter
of the Rev. J. W. Bellamy, at Sellinge
Vicarage, 13th June.
Bird, Lewis, only son of the late Rev. Lewis
Bird, at Pennington Parsonage, aged 4
30th May.
Brackenbury, Sarah, relict of the late Ro-
bert Carr Brackenbury, Esq. of Raithby
hall, co. Lincoln, at Loughborough, 12th
June.
Buckle, Emma, eldest surviving daughte
of the late Matthew Buckle, Esq. of
Norton house, Chichester, 7th June.
Burrard, Philip James, Esq. Student, Clare
Hall, Cambridge, aged 21, llth June.
Bush, Thomas, Esq. of Melbury terrace,
aged 65, llth June.
Calmann, Dr. Ludwig, at Hammersmith,
aged 41, 6th June.
Campbell, Lieutenant- General Sir Colin,
K.C. B. Colonel of the 72nd Highlanders,
and late Governor of Ceylon, after an
illness of only three days, in King street,
St. James's, 13th June. This distin-
guished officer was fifth son of John
Campbell, Esq. of Melfort,in Argyllshire,
and brother of the late Admiral Sir Patrick
Campbell. He was born in 1777, and
joined the army in 1799, when he almost
immediately entered on the active duties
of his profession. His gallantry in the
Peninsula soon won for him the notice of
his illustrious Commander, and his name
and exploits occupy no inglorious space
in the official despatches. For a con-
siderable time he held the appointments
of Assistant- Adjutant- General and Assis-
tant-Quartermaster-General ; and for his
eminent services at Talavera, Busa^o,
Fuentes d'Onor, Badajoz, Salamanca,
Vittoria, the Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nives
and Toulouse, he received a Cross and
Six Clasps. At the consummating vic-
tory of Waterloo, Colonel Campbell
commanded the Royal Scots : and so
conspicuous was his conduct on that me-
morable occasion, that the officers of the
regiment testified their admiration by the
presentation of a sword valued at seventy
guineas, and the Sovereign conferred, in
recompense, the insignia of the Bath.
Sir Colin was also invested with the orders
of Maria Theresa, St. George, the Tower
and Sword, and Maximilian Joseph of
Bavaria. Subsequently, after acting for
several years as Lieutenant-Governor cf
Portsmouth, and holding the command
90
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
of the South-West District, he was ap-
pointed Lieutenant-Governor of Nova
Scotia, and finally, in 1840, made Go-
vernor of Ceylon, in which island he
remained until the recent appointment
of Lord Torrington. In, 1836 he became
Colonel of the 7'2nd Highlanders, and in
1838 reached the rank of Lieut. General.
At the period of his decease, Sir Colin
Campbell had just completed his 70th
year. He married Miss Harden, dau.
of Henry Harden, Esq. but was left a
widower in 1838, with three sons and
three daughters ; the former are Col.
Fitzroy Camphell ; Lieut. A. Campbell,
Aide-de-Camp to Sir Charles Napier in
India; and Capt. F. Campbell, R.N.
Of the daughters, the eldest, Maria
Louisa, married first to Hon. C. F. Nor-
ton, and second, to the Hon. Edmund
Phipps.
Campbell, Dougal, Esq. M. D. half-pay
Surgeon, Royal Artillery, at Boulogne
sur Mer, where he had been practising as
physician for upwards of 25 years, aged
67, 22nd May. He claimed the earldoms
of Annandale and Hartfell, and his bro-
ther, the late Colonel William Claud
Campbell, had claimed the earldoms of
Crawford and Lindsay.
Capher, the Rev. George, Vicar of Wher-
stead, Suffolk, aged 30, 14th June.
Chalmers, the Rev. Thomas, D.D. This
eminent divine was born in 1776, and
towards the beginning of the present cen-
tury he commenced his distinguished
theological career as Minister in the parish
of Kilmany, in Fifeshire. He remained
there for twelve years, and was translated
to the Tron Church of Glasgow in 1815.
During this time he produced his work
on Natural Theology, and his " Sketches
of Moral and Mental Philosophy." His
" Evidences of the Christian Revelation '
were originally published in the " Ency
clopaedia Britannica," under the manage-
ment of Dr. Brewster. In Glasgow his
astronomical and commercial discourses,
so sensible, so profound, and so Christian,
proved of incalculable benefit to the moral
and social improvement of his fellow
citizens — aye, and to many thousands of
his fellow men, both in and out of Scot-
land. His work on the civic and Christian
economy of large towns is of inestimable
value. In 1823 Dr. Chalmers accepted
the Chair of Moral Philosophy in the
New College of St. Andrew's, where he
remained until 1828, when he received
the appointment of Theological Professor
in the University of Edinburgh. From
the period of his settlement at St. Andrew
until his removal to Edinburgh, he pub-
lished his works on " Endowment^" unc:
on *' Political Economy," his "Bridge-
water Treatise," and his " Lectures on
the Romans." Altogether his published
works form twenty-five ;volumes : their
circulation has been very large. In 1843
the Doctor resigned his Professorship in
the University, and became Principal of
the New College. The death of Dr.
Chalmers was very sudden. He was found
on the morning of the 31st ult. dead in
his bed, to which he had retired the pre-
vious night in apparent health. As the
intellectual leader of the Free Church of
Scotland, as an able writer and preacher,
and as one of the best4of good men, Dr.
Chalmers leaves behind him an undying
reputation. The spiritual and earthly
welfare of all men was the mainspring of
his thoughts and actions. His tlove and
care extended to every class, but his heart
was chiefly with the poor of his people.
He devoted his great and comprehensive
powers to their enfranchisement from sin
and suffering. Under his influence, virtue
and happiness have become the inmates
of many, many cottage homes in Scotland.
Chandler, William Botsford. Esq barrister
at law, eldest son of the Hon. E. B.
Chandler, of Dorchester, in the province
of New Brunswick, llth June.
Chichester, Sir Arthur, Bart, of Greencastle.
Accounts from Ireland announce the de-
cease of this gentleman. He represented
a branch of the noble house of Donegal,
and resided at Greencastle, in the county
of that name. He was only son of the
Rev. William Chichester, by Mary Anne,
his first wife, daughter of George Harvey,
, Esq. of Malin Hall, and obtained the
patent of Baronetcy in 1821.
Clarance, Louisa, widow of the late C.
Clarance, Esq. of Lodge hall, co. Essex,
at No. 14, Billiter street, the residence
of her son, aged 83, 5th June.
Colvin, James, Esq. of 71, Old Broad street,
and of Little Bealings, co. Suffolk, at his
house, 55, Manchester street, Manchester
square, aged 80, 25th May.
Cooke, Mary Anne, wife of the Rev. Wm.
Cooke, Vicar of Bromyard, 28th May.
Cotton, Louisa Decima, youngest daughter
of the late Joseph Cotton, Esq. ofLayton,
Essex, 9th June.
Creed, Frances Gwynne, wife of Captain
Henry Creed, Hon. Company's Artillery,
and youngest dau. of Lieutenant General
Sir David Ximenes, K.C.H. at Bombay,
aged 21, llth April.
Cutler, Clara Eliza, wife of Frank Cutler,
Esq. Her Britannic Majesty's Vice Con-
sul, at Le Bocage, near Bordeaux, 30th
May.
Dagley, Mrs. Mary, at Connaught square,
3rd June.
Dalton, Charlotte Amelia, wife of Mr.
Francis Dalton, surgeon, and third dau.
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
91
of the late John Bott, Esq. Secretary to
the Privy Purse of his late Majesty Wil-
liam IV. aged 34, 25th June.
Debenham, John, Esq. Com. R.N. aged
76, 15th June.
De Brett, Mary Isabella, second surviving
daughter of the late Capt. De Brett, of
the Bengal Art. 8th June.
Diggens, Francis, Esq. late Banker at
Chichester, at Upper George street, 26th
May.
Ellerby, Mrs. Elizabeth, of Whitby, aged
92, 13th June.
Elton, Lieut. Col. late of the 1st Dragoon
Guards, aged 63, 1st June.
Essington, William Webb, Esq. of the Firs,
Great Malvern, aged 61, 13th June.
Eyston, Jane, widow of the late Basil
Eyston, Esq. of East Hendred, Berks, at
Overbury, Worcestershire, 7th June.
Farrant, Thomas, Esq. of Norsted house,
Kent, and Great Hale, Lincolnshire, at
his house, 17, Montague- street, Portman
square, aged 74, 6th June.
Fawkes, Maria Sophia, relict of the late
Walter Fawkes, Esq., of Farnley hall,
Yorkshire, at Malvern, 4th June.
Fitzgerald, Sir William, Bart, of Carrygo-
ran, co. Clare, at Dublin, 30th May. He
was son of Edward Fitzgerald, Esq. of
Carrygoran, M.P. for the county of Clare,
to whom Col. Augustine Fitzgerald, of
Silver Grove, left a considerable portion
of his large property ; and succeeded to
the Baronetcy in 1834, at the decease of
his brother, Lieut.-Gen. Sir Augustine
Fitzgerald. Sir Wm. married, in 1305,
Emilia Gumming, youngest daughter of
William Veale, Esq. of Trevayler, in
Cornwall, and niece of Sir Alexander
Penrose Gumming Gordon, Bart, by whom
he has left issue, three sons — the eldest
Sir Edward Fitzgerald, the present Bart. ;
and one daughter Emilia Mary, wife of
the Hon. James Butler, 5th son of Lord
Donboyne.
Flockton, Thomasine Mary, only child of
the late Thomas Flockton, Esq. of Twick-
enham, 13th June.
Eraser, Lieut.-Col. K.H. formerly of the
83rd Regiment of Infantry, and for 23
years Fort-Major of Jersey, at Hounslow,
where he had gone for the benefit of his
health, 12th June.
Frome, Harriet, widow of Wm. Castle
Frome, late Lieut-Col. 22nd Regiment,
29th May.
Galloway, Margaret Bridger Goodrich, wife
of the Rev. James Galloway, at the
Rectory, Spaxton, Somersetshire, in the
43rd year of her age, 8th June.
Girling, William, gentleman, of Yaxham,
youngest son of the late William Girling,
Esq. of Twyford lodge and East Dere.
ham, and Catherine, his first wife, dau.
of Christopher Andrews, Esq. of Weston
Longueville, Norfolk, at Mattishall hall,
in his 83rd year, 29th April.
Graham, Mrs. Penelope, at Belgrave house,
Turnham Green, 22nd May.
Gtyll, Grace, youngest dau. of Wm. Gyll,
Esq. of Wraysbury, co. Bucks, aged 84,
1st June.
Hagerman, the Hon. Christopher Alexander,
one of the Judges of her Majesty's Court
of Queen's Bench, Upper Canada, at
Toronto, in the aged56, 14th May.
Harriott, the Rev. Wm., Vicar of Odiham,
Hants, aged 57, llth June.
Herbert, the Hon. and very Rev. William,
L.L.D., Dean of Manchester, died on
the 28th May, at his residence in Here-
ford-street, Park lane. He has been
somewhat of an invalid during the last
two years, but his decease occurred unex-
pectedly. On the morning of the day he
died, he appeared better than usual, and
went out; but about a quarter of an
hour after his return home, he suddenly
fell back in the chair and expired. Dr.
Herbert was born in 1778, the third son
of Henry first Earl of Carnarvon, by
Eliza Alicia Maria, his wife, daughter of
Charles Earl of Egremont. Thus, pater-
nally and maternally, he derived descent
from two of our most eminent families —
the Herberts and the Wyndhams. By
Letitia Dorothea, his wife, daughter of
Joshua fifth Viscount Allen, he leaves
two sons and two daughters.
Hewrett, Emily Jane, second dau. of Henry
William Hewrett, Esq. at Chatham, 9th
June.
Hodges, George, Esq. late of Felton, Salop,
aged 84, 3rd June.
Hously, Samuel, Esq. of Gloucester terrace,
Regents Park, 9th June.
Hurst, Thomas, Esq. formerly of the firm
of Longman and Co., aged 73, 2nd June.
Hutton, Richard, Esq. Barrister at Law,
at Newcastle on Tyne, llth June.
Innes, John William, Esq. of the Admiralty,
aged 68, 23rd May.
Irton, Lieut.-Col. Richard, of the Rifle
Brigade, aged 49, 9th June.
Johnson, Barbara, third daughter of the
late Charles Johnson, Esq. of Camber-
well, 13th June.
Jutting, Margaret, wife of John Henry
Jutting, Esq. formerly of London, at
Jersey, 13th June.
Kent, Frances, wife of the Rev. Anthony
Kent, of Oriel College, Oxon, 30th May.
Koch, Geo. Peter, eldest son of Peter Koch,
Esq. at Frankfort, aged 4 years, 6th June.
Lawson, John, Esq. of Shooter's hill and
Bexley heath, Kent, second son of the
late John Lawson, Esq. of Bowness hill,
in the co. of Cumberland, 5th June.
Little, John, Esq. at Walthamstow, aged 87,
2nd June.
Maclean, Allan, eldest son of the late
92
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
Lieut.-Gen., Sir Joseph Maclean, K.C.H.
10th June.'
M'Pherson, Elizabeth, second daughter of
the late William North, Esq. of Chelsea,
and widow of the late Alexander M'Pher-
son, Esq., at her house, in Cadogan-
place, 15th June.
Magendie, Stuart, eldest son of the Rev.
Stuart Magendie, Vicar of Longden, 4th
June.
Marriott, Sarah, wife of T. Marriott, Esq.
at Pap ill on hall, co. Leicester, 13th June.
Martin, Selina, wife of the Rev. Samuel
Martin, Rectory, Warsop, Notts, 2nd
June.
Martin Thomas Byan, the eldest son of
Capt. William Fanshawe Martin, Royal
Navy, at Anglesey, near Gosport, 6th
June.
Milner, Col.^late of the 18th Dragoons,
and brother of Sir William Mordaunt
Milner, of Nun-Appleton, in the co.
York, at Mickleham, on the 31st May.
Murphy. Mary Ann, widow of the late Col.
John Murphy, of Malaga, a Knight, of
Alcantara, &c., at Montagu-place, Russell
square, aged 58, 24th May.
Odell, John, Esq. at Carreglea, co. Water-
ford, 26th May.
Pearson, Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas,
K.C.H., at Bath. This gallant' officer,
eon of the Rev. Thomas Horner Pearson,
entered the army in 1796, and served
against Flushing, in the Helder Expedi-
tion, in Egypt, North America, the West
Indies, and Portugal, and throughout the
last American War. He received several
severe wounds, and was one of the
general officers who enjoyed rewards for
distinguished services. He wore a medal
and one clasp for his conduct as Major of
the 23rd Foot at Albuera, and as second
in command at Chrystler's Farm. He
was born in 1782 ; and marriedr in 1810,
a daughter of General Coffin. At the
period of his decease, he held the Colo-
nelcy of the 85th regiment.
Paine, Wm. Pinke, Esq. at Farnham, aged
64, 4th June.
Papworth, John Buonarotti. The death of
this gentleman, late Vice-president of the
Royal Institute of British Architects,
occurred recently, at his residence, Park
End, St. Neot's; whither he had retired
from London, after more than fifty years
of professional practice. Early in life,
his excellent judgment and kind heart
acquired for him the intimacy of the
leading artists ; and, also, the confidence
of many wealthy amateurs as to the
direction of their patronage, and as to the
decoration of their mansions. In his
practice, he originated and accomplished
the adoption of the tasteful style of
modern furniture ; which led to his selec-
tion by Government for the trust of carry-
ing out the formation of the Somerset -
House School of Design. His work on
Garden and Rural Architecture, were the
result of his experience in Landscape
Gardening, which he joined as a profes-
sion with his other art. Amongst the
clients to whom he owed an extremely
varied practice, he numbered several of
the late branches of the Royal Family,
especially the Princess Charlotte : and
also the present King of Wurtemberg,
from whom he, having designed the
English Park and Palace at Kaunstadt,
received the appointment of Architect to
his Maiesty. Mr. Papworth was highly
respected, not only by his private friends
and by his clients, but also by those
severer judges, the members of his own
profession. *_
Perry, John, Esq. Bencher of Gray's Inn,
12th June.
of Phillips, Thomas Bentley, Esq. at Beverley,
aged 40, 10th June.
Plaskett, Sir Richard, K.M.G., of Hampton
House, Torquay, aged 66, 12th June.
Sir Richard Plasket was the third son of
Mr Thomas Flasket, of Clifford-street,
London ; he was born in 1 782, and early
in life filled an appointment in the Colo-
nial Department. He was subsequently
employed as private and public Secretary
to the Governments at Ceylon, Malta,
and the Cape of Good Hope. The im-
portant duties of these official places he
discharged for a period of twenty-six
years with so much satisfaction to the
Home Administration, that, in considera-
tion of his eminent sevices, he was nomi-
nated a Knight of the Order of St. Mi-
chael and St George, on its institution
in 1818. He married in 1836.
Preston, Lady Baird, of Valleyfield and
Frentown, widow of General the Right
Hon. Sir David Baird, Bart. G.C.B.,
K.C. In the absence of issue by her
marriage the estate of Valleyfield and
Frentown descend to her sister, Miss
Preston, at Valleyfield, Perthshire, 28th
May.
Rankin. the Rev. Francis John Harrison,
B.A., Her Majesty's Colonial and Gar-
rison Chaplain, at the Gambia, West
Coast of Africa, aged 41, 28th March.
Reed, Catherine, the wife of Assistant Com-
missary-General Reed, at Corfu, Ionian
Isles, aged 45.
Richards, John, Esq. of Wassell Grove,
Worcestershire, and of Calvert's-build-
ings, Southwark, formerly High-Sheriff
for the county of Worcester, and member
in two successive parliaments for the
borough of Knaresborough, aged 67.
Robertdean, Lieutenant Colonel James Wra.
late of the Bengal Cavalry, last surviv-
ing son of the late ( John Peter Robert'
dean,Esq. of Chelsea, aged 58, 15th June-
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
93
Robertson, Major-General Archibald, o
the Bombay Army, at Baker-street, 9th
June.
Robinson, Nathaniel, Esq. at Littlebury
Essex, 23rd May.
Konald, Robert, Esq. at the Elms, Derby
23rd May.
Roope, Cabel, Esq. late of Oporto, in Wo-
burn square, aged 70, 8th June.
Ross, Amelia, wife of Major- General Si
Patrick Ross, Governor of St. Helen's
and youngest daughter of the late Major-
General William Sydenham, of the Hon
East India Company's Service, al
Brighton, 8th June.
Scott, Emma Jane, widow of the late Major
Hugh Scott, Deputy Adjutant Genera
of the Madras Army, and eldest daughte:
of the late Henry Harris, Esq. M.D.
member of the Madras Medical Board
at Bayswater, in the 52nd year of her
age, 31st May.
Selwyn, Albinia Frances, widow of the late
Dr. Congreve Selwyn, at Cheltenham, in
the 63rd year of her age, 29th May.
Sheridan, Charles Kinnaird, Esq. youngest
son of the late Thomas Sheridan, Esq,
at the English Embassy, Paris, aged 30,
30th May.
SJade, Emma, wife of R. G. Slade, Esq. ol
Gloucester street, Portman square, 10th
June.
Smith, Frances, widow of the Rev. Henry
Smith, of Hyde park Place, llth June.
Sommery, Madame la Marquise de, born
Riquet de Caraman — the last of eight
brothers and sisters, all of whom had to
, bear the storm of the French Revolution,
its prisons, exile, wars, and other trials,
yet all of whom reached an advanced age
—departed this life at Bath, in the 78th
year of her age, 22nd May. She was
born on the 28th of October, 1768; and
was married to the late Marquess de
Sommery in 1786, She was one amongst
the last presentations at Versailles, during
the splendour, pomp, and ceremony of
the ancient Court, and attracted the ad
miration of all by her grace and beauty ;
but these personal ad^ antages added to
others which she possessed, had no power
to seduce her heart; misfortune soon
taught her to despise the flattering illu-
sions of this world, and she gave
up without reserve to sentiments of piety
and religion, and to the fulfilment
affections and duties, from which nothing
could withdraw her attention. She be-
came the mother of fourteen children, of
whom only six survive. During the trials
of emigration she displayed heroic acts
of devotedness, experienced all the severe
privations of exile, and bore all with
astonishing firmness and submission.
Her religious and political convictions,
joined to a sacred veneration for the me-
mory of her cherished husband, who died
in Bath in 1814 all concurred to induce
her to fix her residence in England, where
she sought refuge in the year 1795, after
having passed a few years in Germany.
It was by these considerations that she
felt herself called upon to make the sa-
crifice of family interests (interests, never-
theless, most dear to her), and she never
more saw her native land.
Sorelli, Guido, translator of " Paradise
Lost," at Church Place, Piccadilly, 28th
May.
Starkey, Thomas, Esq. of Springwood,
Huddersfield, 25th May. The Leeds
Mercury, of the 29th May, in announcing
this melancholy event, thus refers to the
great public loss sustained in the death of
Mr. Starkey : " It is with feelings of
sincere regret that we have this week to
announce the death of Thomas Starkey,
Esq. one of the West Riding Magistrates,
which took place at 3 o'clock on Tuesday
afternoon, at his residence at Springwood.
Mr. Starkey we believe was at the ma-
nufactory at Longroyd Bridge, (Starkey
Brothers) on the Tuesday previous. The
immediate cause of his death was a
virulent attack of typhus fever. A gloom
has thus suddenly been cast over the
town as his loss will be heavily felt. He
was an active and judicious magistrate,
and bore the character of dispensing
justice with impartiality. " The deceased
gentleman, Thomas Starkey of Spring-
wood, with his two elder brothers, Wil-
liam Starkey of Wakefield, and John
Starkey, Esq. of Thornton Lodge, J. P.,
and his younger brother, Joseph Starkey,
Esq. of Heaton Lodge, near Hudders-
field, J. P., were the four sons of
the late John Starkey, Esq. of Wheat
House, Huddersfield, by Abigail, his
wife, daughter of William Dewhirst,
Esq. of Warley, co. York, and descended
from a branch of the ancient and respect-
able family of Starkies of Huntroyd, co.
Lancaster. Mr. Starkey married 5 Oct.
1830, Charlotte, dau. of William Stan-
ton, Esq. of Throp House, Stroud, and
has left two sons and four daughters,
herself Stephenson, John, Esq. at Newark, Notts,
aged 81 , 3rd June.
of Stokes, George, Esq. formerly of Col-
chester, at Tyndale House, Cheltenham,
31st May.
Stuart Frances, second daughter of the
Hon. and Rev. Andrew Godfrey Stuart,
4th June.
Stuart, Lady Dudley, second daughter of
Lucien Bonaparte, Prince of Canino, at
Rome, 19th May.
94
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
Titley, Eliza, wife of the Rev. Peter Tit ley,
at Penloyn, Llanrwst, North Wales, 16th
May.
Todd, Maria Caroline, wife of Joseph
Todd, Esq. of Moulsey Park, Surrey,
14th June.
Tulloch, Lieut. Donald, Madras Army, son
of Col. Tulloch, C.B., Commissary- Ge-
neral, Madras, at sea, 24th July.
Turner, Mary Anne, wife of Edward E
Turner, Esq. of Cannock, co. Stafford,
7th June.
Watson, Lieut.-Col. Sir Frederick, K.T.S.
This gallant officer died on the 21st May,
in Portland-place, after a protracted ill-
ness, brought on by his services in the
Peninsular War. Sir F. Watson was
present at most of the battles in the Pe-
ninsular, viz. — Busaco, Albuera, Badajos
Vittoria, Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Campo
Major, Olivenca, Alba de Tormes. Pre-
vious to entering the Portuguese service
he was Captain in the First or Roya
Dragoons. He was son of the late Lieut.-
Col. Christopher Watson, formerly of the
Third, or King's Own Dragoons, o:
Westwood House, near Colchester. Hii
remains were interred, at Kensall Green
Cemetry.
Watts, the| &ev' William, A.M. incumben
of Christ Church, St. Giles-in-the- Fields
llth June.
Wells, Angela Helen, youngest child o
Nathaniel Wells, Esq. of Piercefield, co
Monmouth, aged 16, lith June.
Welsted, Sophia, widow of the late Charles
Welsted, Esq. of Valentines, Essex, 28th
May.
White, Thomas, Esq. of Mims Hall, South
Mims, Middlesex, aged 46, 12th June.
Willoughby, Robert, Esq. late of Kingsbury
Cliff, co. Warwick, aged 83, 25th May.
Wilmot, Sir John Eardley Eardley, Bart,
of Berkswell Hall, co. Warwick. The
death of this gentleman, subduing all pri-
vate and party animosity, has called forth
an universal expression of regret. The
melancholy event occurred at Hobart
Town, on the 3rd February. Sir Eardley,
only son of John Wilmot, Esq. of Berks-
well Hall, a Master in Chancery, and
grandson of Sir John Eardley Wilmot,
Knt. a celebrated lawyer, at one time
Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas,
represented a branch of the ancient Der-
byshire family of Wilmot, of Chaddesden,
and derived, in the female line, from the
Eardleys, of Eardley, in Staffordshire.
He was born 21st February, 1783, and
married twice. By his first wife, Eliza-
beth Emma, daughter of C. H. Parry,
M.D. of Bath, he leaves a large family, of
which the eldest son is the present Sir
John Eardley Wilmot, Bart. By his
second wife, Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
Sir Robert Chester, of Bush Hall, Herts,
Sir Eardley also had issue. From 1 832
to 1843, he sat in Parliament for Warwick-
shire, but retired in the latter year, on
being appointed Governor of Van
Diemen's Land. The duties of that office
he performed until 1846, when he was
superseded by Charles Joseph Latrobe,
Esq. Previously to his departure from
England, the late Baronet had acted as a
Deputy-Lieutenant for Warwickshire, and
was for several years the able and re-
spected Chairman of the Quarter Sessions.
The recent debate in the House of Com-
mons explains fully the particulars of
Sir Eardley Wilmot's recal from his
Government.
Wilson, John James, Esq. Surgeon, of
Dough ty-street, 15th June.
Wortham, Cecil Proctor, Esq. at Madras,
29th March.
Yates, Francis, Esq. at rAllrighton, Salop,
aged 81, 26th May.
THE PATRICIAN.
THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
(Continued.)
Les homines apprennent a se moderer en voyant mourir les rois.
BOSSUET.
COMMON fame has not only done much injustice to the memory of Richard
III, but it has thrown a kind of delusive halo around the reputation of his
successor, HENRY VII . As a monarch the latter was decidedly the greater
tyrant of the two. Shakespeare has made the world believe that Henry was
a hero, but in reality this king was a cold, calculating and cruel despot. His
avaricejmew no bounds ; and, to gratify that base passion, he was perpetu-
ally oppressing his subjects with illegal taxes, fines, and other arbitrary ex-
actions. So barefaced and brutal was his system of plunder, that his son
and successor was, on his accession, obliged to satisfy the clamour of the
people by putting to death Empson and Dudley, the agents of his father's
extortions. Henry VII's treatment of his relative, the unfortunate Earl of
Warwick, whom, after a long and unjustifiable incarceration, he caused to
be judicially murdered, equals any charge brought against his predecessor,
even if it were proved. To his wife and children, Henry was harsh in the
extreme, and seems, in common with most misers, to have lost all
domestic feeling, except, indeed, in the advancement of his own fortune and
power by procuring great matrimonial alliances for his sons and daughters.
His anxiety for a connection with the crown of Spain, led to his compelling
his two sons in succession to wed Katherine of Arragon, which was the
fertile cause of such subsequent misery. The death of Henry VII was
characteristic of his life. It occurred just as he was meditating a second
'marriage. His neglected queen had some time previously died in childbed,
and he was hesitating, for a new consort, between the Queen- do wager of
Naples, and the Duchess- dowager of Savoy, both ladies of enormous
wealth. But the decline of his health put an end to all such thoughts ; and
he began to cast his eye towards that future existence, which the iniquities
and severities of his reign rendered a very dismal prospect to him. To
allay the terrors under which he laboured, he endeavoured, by distributing
alms, and founding religious houses, to make atonement for his crimes, and
to purchase, by the sacrifice of part of his ill-gotten treasures, a reconcilia-
tion with his offended Maker. Remorse even seized him, at intervals, for
the abuse of his authority by Empson and Dudley; but not sufficient
to make him stop the rapacious hand of those oppressors. Sir William
VOL. IV. NO. XVI. H
96 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
Capel was again fined £2000 under some frivolous pretence, and was com-
mitted to the Tower for daring to murmur against the iniquity. Harris, an
Alderman of London, was indicted, and died of vexation before his trial
came to an issue. Sir Laurence Ailmer, who had been Mayor, and his two
sheriffs, were condemned in heavy fines, and sent to prison till they made
payment. The King* gave countenance to all these oppressions ; till death,
by its nearer approaches, impressed new terrors upon him ; in his final and
fearful agony he ordered, by a general' clause in his will, that restitution
should be made to all those whom he had injured. He died of a con-
sumption, April 22, 1509, at his favourite palace of Richmond, after
a reign of twenty-three years and eight months, in the fifty-second year of
his age.
One reason perhaps for the leniency of posterity with regard to the me-
mory of Henry VII, is that his misdeeds sank into insignificance and oblivion,
before the surpassing horrors of the succeeding reign. Yet it has often
struck us as singular, that all the English historians,* of whatever creed
or party, can look as calmly as they do on the character and conduct
of HENRY VIII, a prince whose career presents one of the darkest
eras of atrocity in the annals of the world. Vain would it be to seek
in the catalogue of Christian monarchs for another monster like this : even
among the regal and imperial enormities of Pagan antiquity, his equal can
scarcely be found. He had the extreme cruelty of Tiberius, without his
political sagacity. He was a domestic murderer like Nero, whom he
exceeded in treachery and lust ; but he was sane, and the Roman was
a lunatic. Herod Agrippa is perhaps Henry's nearest prototype, yet even
Herod evinced some feeling for others beyond the satisfaction of his
own inordinate selfishness : Henry never did. Herod bitterly mourned
Mariamne slain in his wrath. The base Judean did at least admit that he had
thrown a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe.
There is no instance recorded of Henry's showing a moment's grief or
regret for the death of wife, relative, friend, or any other human being,
however unjustly or cruelly sacrificed. The most extraordinary part of his
dark history, is that Christian England, previously so sensitive to crimes
even suspected to be committed by its sovereigns, and at all times naturally
averse to cruelty, should for thirty- seven years patiently suffer its territory
to become the arena of a series of atrocities which would have even made
Pagan Rome rise against the miscreant who was the perpetrator of them.
Unhappily moreover, we find the name of Henry connected with religion,
and it is probably not a little on this account, that history deals so tenderly
with his infamy ; for Henry, according to the passion of the moment,
favoured one or other of the fierce polemical factions that were then dis-
tracting Europe, and each in its turn gave out something' in his praise.
Thus it is curious to observe the Protestant writers speaking of Henry's
munificence and sagacity during the ascendency of the monastery- destroy ing
Cromwell; while even Dr. Lingard, the Catholic annalist, says Henry
was quite a virtuous person as long as Wolsey was in power. It is an
insult to religion to base its sacred cause for an instant, be the sect what it
may, upon any thing done by this king, alike the enemy of God and man.
But we must now pass over his dreadful life to his no less awful demise.
* The intelligent Mr. Keightley, a stanch Protestant, is perhaps the only exception.
In his History of England, Henry is rightly dealt with.
THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 97
The termination of Henry VIIFs existence had much in it, which rer
sembled the deaths of Herod and Tiberius. As with the Jewish and
the Roman tyrants, his body had become, from his excesses, one mass of
foul disease and putrid corruption, and like Herod, Henry was committing
murder as he lay on his death bed. Herod, it is well known, beside
having his son executed five days before he expired, ordered that the
principal men of the Hebrew nation should be enclosed in the Hippodrome,
and that, while he was giving up the ghost, they should be slaughtered,
to ensure a general lamentation among his people when he was dead. How
nearly similar was the conduct of Henry. Nine days before he breathed
his last, he caused the barbarous execution of his relative the gallant,
gentle Earl of Surrey, who ranks among the last ornaments of England's chi-
valry, and the first of her poets. The charge against Surrey was that he had
quartered on his shield (as he had a perfect right to do) the arms of Edward
the Confessor. On the same accusation, Surrey's father, the Duke of
Norfolk, the first man in the realm, was speedily attainted by an obsequious
parliament, and the tyrant, while at the verge of his mortal agony, on the
morning of his last day, issued orders that the aged Duke should be
beheaded. Providence, however, interfered to prevent both the ancient,
and the more modern accumulation of atrocity. The prisoners of the
Hippodrome, and the inmate of the Tower, were alike rescued by the deaths
of their respective oppressors. The actual demise of Henry, occurred
thus. The king had lain for some time in mortal sickness, apparently
unconscious and regardless of his immediate danger, but for several days
all those near him plainly saw his end approaching. He was become so
froward and fierce, that no one durst inform him of his condition ; and
as some persons during this reign had suffered as traitors for foretelling the
king's death, every one was afraid, lest in the transports of his fury he might,
on this pretence, punish capitally the author of such friendly intelligence.
At last Sir Anthony Denny ventured to disclose to him the fatal secret,
exhorted him to prepare for the fate which was awaiting him, and
advised him to send for Archbishop Cranmer. He heard the announce-
ment unmoved, and said, "let me sleep awhile." On' awaking, he
dispatched a messenger for Cranmer, but before the prelate arrived he was
speechless, though he still seemed to retain his senses.
Cranmer implored him to give some sign of his dying in the faith of
Christ : it is said that he squeezed the Archbishop's hand, but even this
is a matter of doubt : he expired just as the exhortation fell from
Cranmer's lips. And this was the end of a king, who had indeed never
spared man in his anger, nor woman in his lust. He died in the fifty-sixth
year of his age and the thirty- eighth of his reign : his life had been to
himself one undeviating course of good fortune, which may be accounted
for by the fearful consideration that crimes such as his are too heavy to
meet with any earthly retribution. By his will, Henry VIII left money for
masses to be said for delivering his soul from purgatory.
EDWARD VI, whose youth, and whose mental incapacity consequent upon
continual sickness can be the only excuses for the executions of his two uncles,
and the unjust endeavour to deprive his sisters of the Crown, lived, and died
wretchedly. After a complete series of maladies, which ended in consump-
tion, Edward's demise was in this manner. When the settlement, setting
the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth aside was made, with so many inauspi-
cious circumstances, Edward visibly declined every day ; and small hopes
were entertained of his recovery. To make matters worse, his physicians
were dismissed by Northumberland's advice, and an order of council ;
H 2
98 THB DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
he was put into the hands of an ignorant woman, who undertook .in a little
time to restore him to his former state of health. After the use of her
medicines, all the bad symptoms increased to the most violent degree :
he felt a difficulty of speech and breathing ; his pulse failed, his legs
swelled, his colour became livid; and many other symptoms appeared
of his approaching end. He expired at Greenwich, July 6, 1553, in
the sixteenth year of his age, and the seventh of his reign.
We have already alluded to MARY I as the most calumniated monarch in
English history, and we could easily show that such is the fact ; but the
discussion would be here too long and out of place. Suffice it to say that
the two great offences charged against her, the death of Lady Jane Grey,
and the persecution for heresy may be thus explained. So far from
hurrying the fate of Lady Jane Grey, who,- be it remembered, was
attainted according to strict course of law, Mary actually personally inter-
fered with her Ministers to save her life, and after pardoning her father,
the Duke of Suffolk, merely retained her under her sentence in the Tower.
But Suffolk, regardless of the Queen's clemency, instantly raised another
rebellion against her, and then it became a matter of salvation with Mary's
government to allow the law to take its course against the unfortunate
Jane. Mary was reluctant to the last, but she lived at a period when life
was very easily sacrificed, and she was overpersuaded. As to the persecu-
tion, even without regard to the gross exaggeration of the real facts, it was
owing not to the Queen, but to the bloody nature of the religious contest
then going on. Toleration was unknown at the time to Catholic or Protes-
tant : both sides preached and practised the burning of their opponents,
and hundreds upon hundreds became the miserable victims of a polemic
fury which profaned Christianity and religion. These dreadful burnings
commenced more than a century and a half before Queen Mary's reign.
The law which sanctioned them was an act of Henry IV, and his son the
great Henry V, whose memory is held so dear, put it often in force.
Numbers perished by fire under Henry VIII and Edward VI, and other
succeeding kings. Burning, as a punishment, was not actually abolished
until the reign of George III. A woman named Catherine Hayes was
burnt alive in 1726, for the murder of her husband, the crime being deemed
petty treason. The real truth why the horrid custom is more noticed
during Mary's rule is, that she, like Richard III, was succeeded by
enemies, whose object was to amplify and extend every accusation against
her. The persecution was the cruel madness of the age, and should
no more be ascribed to Mary, than the executions of witches, which hap-
pened in his reign, to Charles II. But our subject lies with the death and
not the life of Mary. Her reign was as short as it was sad.
Her health had always been delicate ; from the time of her first supposed
pregnancy she was afflicted with frequent and obstinate maladies. Tears no
longer afforded her relief from the depression of her spirits ; and the re-
peated loss of blood, by the advise of her physicians, had rendered her pale,
languid, and emaciated. Nor was her mind more at ease than her body.
The exiles from Geneva, by the number and virulence of their libels, threat-
ening her life, kept her in a constant state of fear and irritation ; and to
other causes of anxiety, had been added the insalubrity of the season and
the loss of Calais. In August she experienced a slight febrile indisposition
at Hampton Court, and immediately removed to St. James's. It was
soon ascertained that her disease was the same fever which had proved fatal
to thousands of her subjects ; and, though she languished for three months,
THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 99
with several alterations of improvement and relapse, she never recovered
sufficient to leave her chamber. During this long confinement, Mary
edified all around her by her piety, and her resignation to the will of
Providence. On the morning of her death, Mass was celebrated in her
chamber. She was perfectly sensible, and expired a few minutes before
the conclusion, on the 17th November, 1558. Her friend and kins-
man, Cardinal Pole, who had long been confined with a fever, survived
her only twenty-two hours. He had reached his fifty-ninth, she her forty-
second year.
One proof of the fierceness of the feeling raised against Mary, is that
no credit is given to her for an exclamation with regard to the loss of
Calais, which she made on her death bed, and which evinced how acutely
she felt aught that diminished the greatness of England. ' ' The name
of Calais" she said "will be found engraven on my heart, when I am
dead." Mary is the only sovereign of the house of Tudor, who committed
no act of private atrocity, and yet, in history, even her father's reputation
compared to hers, is fair and good to see.
The great Queen ELIZABETH, lost, at the hour of death, that courage
and fortitude which so characterised her life : yet, unlike her father,
she did give proof that she possessed a conscience. Passion or policy had
led her to perpetrate many cruelties. The murder of poor Mary Stuart is
the worst crime recorded, on clear testimony, against the crown of England ;
and one cannot but view as a natural consequence the dying terrors of the
guilty party, even though a person as sagacious, and as strong minded
as Elizabeth really was. The fairest, and most graphic account of this
mighty sovereign's demise, is that given by Lingard, who, however, rejects
as apocryphal the well known story of the ring, said to have been sent by
the Earl of Essex through the Countess of Nottingham, to Elizabeth, but
not delivered by the Countess, who revealed her treachery on her death bed.
According to Dr. Lingard, the termination of the Queen's life is thus reported.
Elizabeth had surprised the nations of Europe by the splendour of
her course : she. was destined to close the evening of her life in gloom and
sorrow. The bodily infirmities which she suffered may have been the con-
quences of age ; her mental afflictions are usually traced by historians to
i egret for the execution of Essex. That she occasionally bewailed his fate,
that she accused herself of precipitation and cruelty, is not improbable : but
there were disclosures in his confession, to which her subsequent melancholy
may with great probability be ascribed. From that document she learned
the unwelcome and distressing truth, that she had lived too long ; that her
favourites looked with impatience to the moments which would free them
from her control ; and that the very men on whose loyalty she had hitherto
reposed with confidence, had already proved unfaithful to her. She became
pensive and taciturn ; she sate whole days by herself, indulging in the most
gloomy reflections ; every rumour agitated her with new and imaginary
terrors ; and the solitude of her court, the opposition of the commons
to her prerogative, and the silence of the citizens when she appeared in
public, were taken by her for proofs that she had survived her popularity,
and was become an object of aversion to her subjects. Under these
impressions, she assured the French ambassador that she had grown weary
of her very existence.
Sir John Harrington, her godson, who visited the court about seven
months after the death of Essex, has described, in a private letter, the state
100 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
in which he found the Queen. She was altered in her features, and reduced
to a skeleton. Her food was nothing but manchet bread and succory
pottage. Her taste for dress was gone. She had not changed her clothes
for many days. Nothing could please her ; she was the torment of the
ladies who waited on her person. She stamped with her feet, and swore
violently at the objects of her anger. For her protection she had ordered
a sword to be placed by her table, which she often took in her hand, and
thrust with violence into the tapestry of her chamber. About a year later Sir
John returned to the palace, and was admitted to her presence. " I found
her," he says, " in a most pitiable state. She bade the Archbishop ask me,
if I had seen Tyrone. I replied, with reverence, that I had seen him with
the Lord Deputy. She looked up with much choler and grief in her
countenance, and said, ' O, now it mindeth me, that you was one who saw
this man elsewhere;' and hereat she dropped a tear, and smote her bosom.
She held in her hand a golden cup, which she often put to her lips : but,
in truth, her heart seemed too full to need more filling."
In January she was troubled with a cold, and about the end of the
month removed, on a wet and stormy day, from Westminster to Richmond.
Her indisposition increased : but, with her characteristic obstinacy, she
refused the advice of her physicians. Loss of appetite was accompanied
with lowness of spirits, and to add to her distress, it chanced that her
intimate friend, the Countess of Nottingham, died. Elizabeth now spent
her days and nights in sighs and tears ; or, if she condescended to speak,
she always chose some unpleasant and irritating subject ; the treason and
execution of Essex, or the reported project of marrying the Lady Arabella
into the family of Lord Hertford, or the war in Ireland and the pardon of
Tyrone. In the first week of March all the symptoms of her disorder
were considerably aggravated : she lay during some hours in a state of
stupour, rallied for a day or two, and then relapsed. The council, having
learned from the physicians that her recovery was hopeless, prepared to
fulfil their engagements with the King of Scots, by providing for his peace-
able succession to the throne. The Lord Admiral, the Lord Keeper, and
the Secretary, remained with the Queen at Richmond : the others repaired
to Whitehall. Orders were issued for the immediate arrest and transpor-
tation to Holland of all vagrants and unknown persons found in London or
Westminster ; a guard was posted at the exchequer ; the great horses were
brought up from Reading ; the court was supplied with arms and ammuni-
tion ; and several gentlemen, " hunger- starved for innovation," and there-
fore objects of suspicion, were conveyed prisoners to the Tower.
The Queen, during the paroxysms of her disorder, had been alarmed at
the frightful phantoms conjured up by her imagination. At length she
obstinately refused to return to her bed ; and sate both day and night on a
stool bolstered up with cushions, having her finger in her mouth and her
eyes fixed on the floor, seldom condescending to speak, and rejecting every
offer of nourishment. The bishops and the lords of the council advised and
entreated in vain. For them all, with the exception of the Lord Admiral,
she expressed the most profound contempt. He was of her own blood :
from him she consented to accept a basin of broth : but when he urged her
to return to her bed, she replied that, if he had seen what she saw there,
he would never make the request. To Cecil, who asked her if she had
seen spirits, she answered, that it was an idle question beneath her notice.
He insisted that she must go to bed, if it were only to satisfy her people.
"Must?" she exclaimed, "is must a word to be addressed to Princes?
THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 101
Little man, little man, thy father, if he had been alive, durst not have used
that word : but thou art grown presumptuous because thou knowest that I
shall die." Ordering the others to depart, she called the Lord Admiral to
her, saying in a piteous tone, " my Lord, I am tied with an iron collar about
my neck." He sought to console her, but she replied, " no : I am tied,
and the case is altered with me."
At the commencement of her illness the Queen had been heard to say
that she would leave the Crown to the right heir: it was now deemed
advisable to elicit from her a less equivocal declaration on behalf of the
King of Scots. On the last night of her life the three lords waited
upon her ; and, if we may believe the report circulated by their partisans,
received a favourable answer. But the maid of honour who was present
has left us a very different tale. According to her narrative the persons
first mentioned to the Queen by the Lords were the King of France and the
King of Scotland. The Queen neither spoke nor stirred. The third name
was that of the Lord Beau champ. At the sound her spirit was roused ;
and she hastily replied, " I will have no rascal's son in my seat," They
were the last words which she uttered. She relapsed into a state of insen-
sibility, and at three the next morning tranquilly breathed her last. This
occurred on the 24th March, 1603, in the seventieth year of her age and,
the forty- sixth of her reign. By six o'clock the same day, the lords from
Richmond joined those in London ; and a resolution was taken to proclaim
James as heir to the Queen, both by proximity of blood and by her own
appointment on her death-bed.
Providence points out an awe-inspiring lesson in the deaths of the three
principal Sovereigns of the house of Tudor — Henry VII, Henry VIII, and
Elizabeth. Unvarying prosperity had attended them while living : the
avarice of the one, the luxury of the other, and the ambition of the third,
had been gratified even to their utmost hope : their cups of vicious desires
had overflowed the brim, and yet, when dying how utterly miserable they
were ! What objects of wretchedness and horror did they become when
the hand of God fell upon them ! The peasant, nay the meanest of man-
kind— the very beggar whose soul might perhaps have to wing its flight
from a dunghill — would have shrunk in terror from .regal felicity such as
theirs, coupled with such conclusions. The words of the sacred orator we
have quoted above are, if ever, to have signification here. Men should in-
deed learn moderation when they know how these Tudor monarchs died.
102
>*
-
MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.
SPAIN, how art thou fallen ! Thou who but a few hundred years ago stoodst
in the very front of Europe, — the conqueror and civilised ruler of vast na-
tions that had oceans between them ; thou, the arbiter of all chivalry, rank,
gentility, courtesy, and refinement ; — a potentate, too, in literature, without
which no nation can be great, — the works of thy Calderon, and De Vega,
and Cervantes, the delight and talk of the universe. Thus, indeed, thou
wast ; — and what art thou now ?
O what a noble state is here overthrown !
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword :
Th' expectancy and rose of the fair world,
The glass of fashion, and the mould of form,
Th' observ'd of all observers ! quite, quite down !
A horrid civil warfare, which, since the period of the contest for the
succession in the beginning of the last century, down to the present time,
has continued to rage with scarcely an interval of peace, proves even more
detrimental to the literary than to the political greatness of Spain. Writing,
beyond the bombastic and virulent articles in the newspapers, and some
trashy publications, such as tales and novels, contemptible in style and sub-
ject, appears now obsolete in this devoted country. Yet this is nowise owing
to the mental incapability of the people of Spain; The natural character-
istics of dignified thought, brilliant and varied imagination, and ready
humour, remain as strong as ever. But it is the war, and, we maintain, the
war alone, which effects this intellectual desolation. In strong proof of
such being the case, the romances to which we are now going to allude,
and which are the only two that do credit to recent letters in Spain, were
brought out at times when peace shed momentary and flickering rays of its
benign influence over the land of Castile. The first of these in priority of
publication is " El Conde Candespina, Novela historica original," which
issued from the press of Madrid in 1832. Its author is Don Patricio de la
Escosura, then an alferez or ensign of artillery in the royal guard. This
romance, though, as may easily be supposed, inferior to similar contemporary
productions in this country, or in France or Germany, is a tale of no incon-
siderable merit. The language is good, the characters are very well drawn,
many of the scenes are lively, and the whole has an agreeable tone of nation-
ality. The story dates at the beginning of the twelfth century : it is founded
upon the fierce dissensions of Urraca, Queen of Castile and Leon, and her
second husband, Alfonso, King of Arragon. The hero of the narrative,
Don Gomez, Conde de Candespina, had loved Urraca prior to this unfor-
tunate second marriage, and had been recommended, although unsuccessfully
by the assembled nobility of the kingdom, as a consort for the heiress Urraca,
more agreeable to her future subjects than a foreigner. During her misera-
ble wedlock with the King of Arrugon, Don Gomez is her faithful and zeal-
ous cavalier, repeatedly delivering her from Don Alfonso's tyranny ; he,
however, conceals his undying passion until after her divorce on the
MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 103
ground of consanguinity, when he contends for her love with Don" Pedro,
Conde de Lara, who had not waited for the sentence that made his suit
lawful, to seek the Queen's hand by flattering her vanity. Of the levity and
self-complacency of her Majesty, the following scene is an amusing and
happy illustration. Candespina has, with a very few assistants, surprised
the Arragonese castle in which Donna Urraca with a favourite maid of honour,
Leonora Guzman, was kept prisoner by her husband, who would arrogate all
authority in her dominions. The Conde has released the Queen, and with
equal skill and secresy escorts her safely to the actual frontiers of Castile.
The party halts for the last time in an Arragonese village : —
" The house that appeared the least miserable was selected, and, without
further ceremony, Don Gomez sent its master orders to receive the Queen,
not even announcing her exalted dignity. The plebeians were then accus-
tomed to submit voluntarily or perforce to the will of the nobles, who issued
their orders at the point of the spear, and did not wonder at their exactions.
Accordingly, the Arragonese peasant expressed no repugnance to affording
the hospitality thus courteously solicited. He showed his guests into what
was called a saloon, in which no furniture was seen beyond a coarse deal
table, a few benches of the same material, and a large leather chair, that
was evidently the oldest and most respectable occupant of the place. In
this saloon was an alcove, containing a bed, perfectly in keeping with the
rest of the furniture, and destined for Donna Urraca.
" The Queen, upon entering this miserable hut, cast a glance around her,
and a deep sigji told how much she missed the splendour of a court. The
Conde understood her, but unable to remedy a single discomfort, he deemed
it wise to say nothing upon such subjects. Engrossed by his plan respecting
Don Hernando's mission, he scarcely waited till she had seated herself, when
he bent his knee before her, and besought her permission to prefer a petition.
Having obtained it, he set forth, clearly but concisely, the necessity that
existed for soliciting the aid of the Senor de Najara, to escort her to Burgos,
where Don Alfonso's partisans bore sway. The Queen listened to his dis-
course with evident signs of impatience, and then said, " Never should I
have believed that the Queen of Castile would be reduced to beg the aid
of her vassals." " Your highness," returned Don Gomez, "has not under-
stood, assuredly by my fault, what I meant to say. There is no question of
your highness's begging any one's aid, but of your condescending to an-
nounce your arrival in your own dominions to the Senor de Najara ; an
honour which will pledge that cavalier to your defence." — " And how,
Conde, do I chance to need his help ? Have I not plenty of vassals in
Castile as noble, as powerful, and as bold as he ?" — " Nobles there are in
Castile, Senora, many, and very powerful ; but I grieve to say, not all per-
haps". ..." I understand you. You fear that they may adhere to the King
of Arragon in preference to their natural Queen. Whilst they believed
me his lawful wife, whilst 1 was absent, they may perhaps have submitted
to Don Alfonso. But when I present myse'lf, trust me, Conde, there will
not be a single one who will not follow my standard." — " So it should be ;
so I would have it, but dare not rely upon its being so. — At least let your
highness be assured that it were imprudent to present yourself before
Burgos, without a stronger escort than that which now attends you." —
" How odd you are, Conde ! Do you think the force with which you under-
took to snatch me from the power of my enemies inadequate to escort me
in mv own dominions."
104 MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.
" Donna Leonora, who was present at this conversation, perceived the just-
ness of the Conde's views ; but saw, at the same time, that it was useless
to contend against the Queen's vanity : and that, unless the affair could be
presented to her under a totally different light, she would never consent to
that which was indispensable to her own interest. A happy expedient suddenly
occurred to her, and, at the risk of incurring a sharp reproof, she ventured
to mix in the conversation, saying to the Queen — " If your highness would
permit me. . . . " — " How, Leonora, do you too mistrust the loyalty of my
vassals ?" — " No, Senora," returned the dextrous court favourite ; " so far
from it, I hold the Conde's fears to be wholly unfounded." — "Donna
Leonora !" exclaimed the Conde, provoked to see the lady in waiting thus
spontaneously oppose his judicious plan ; "Donna Leonora, have you maturely
considered. ..." " Let her speak," said the Queen, interrupting him.
" Go on, Leonora; let us see if you can convince this good cabellero." —
" I cannot think it necessary," said Leonora, " even to refute the fears which
the Conde de Candespina's unbounded zeal has led him to conceive. His
lordship will pardon me if I think him wholly in error. I am much mis-
taken if there be a single noble in Castile who is not ready to sacrifice him-
self for the charms of Donna Urraca." — "Not for my charms, since I
boast none, but for my rights, assuredly." — " Your highness speaks thus
from modesty," pursued the lady ; " but at any rate, your highness cannot
need the Senor de Najara's troops for your protection ; nevertheless I should
not hesitate to send for them."
The astonishment of the Queen and the Count, at this strange conclusion
of Donna Leonora's speech, cannot well be described. The first looked at
her angrily, the second with admiration ; but she, who had foreseen this,
without giving them time to recollect themselves, went on as follows : —
" If your highness will deign to listen to me another minute, my meaning
will appear. I repeat that the Senor de Najara's troops are unnecessary
for your security ; but does your highness think it beseems your high dig-
nity to enter Burgos in the same litter with your only female attendant,
without domestics, without more guards than eight or nine, assuredly valiant
soldiers, but whose arms are still blood-stained, whose garments are covered
with dust."
" In very truth, Leonora, you are in the right, and I will send to the Senor
de Najara to come and escort us to our Castillian capital. Write the letter,
Conde, and I will sign it ; but take care to express, that the motive of our
summons is suggested by Leonora, and not the slightest distrust of the
loyalty of our vassals."
The following is a more bustling portion of the romance. The Queen has,
by her own imprudence, again fallen into her husband's power ; and two of
her most stanch adherents, Don Hernando de Olea and Don Diego de
Najara, who have been seized with her, are confined in prison. Their escape
is thus related : —
" The gaolers had been charged to visit the prison frequently, in order to
prevent the captives from forcing the iron bars of their window, or organiz-
ing any other mode of escape. The last of these disagreeable visits, peri-
odically paid to our prisoners, took place after midnight. The gaolers then
entered, each with his lantern, each armed with a sword and dagger; they
first examined the chamber, then each cautiously approached the bed of one
of the captives, to ascertain that he really occupied it. This was the hour
MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 105
which the two cabelleros selected for the execution of their hazardous enter-
prise.
*********
" It was about one o'clock in the morning, when a hoarse sound of keys
and bolts announced the approach of the gaolers ; the heavy door creaked
upon its hinges, and the pale scanty light of the lanterns illumined the
chamber. The breathing of the two prisoners was equal and heavy, and
the most acute observer could not have guessed that they were awake, and
struggling between hope and fear.
" They sleep," said the Castilian to the Aragonese gaoler. — " Would it
were for ever !" returned he. — " Silence, lest they wake and hear." — " What
should they hear ? Don't you hear how Don Diego snores ?" — " Perhaps,"
rejoined the first, without interrupting his examination of the apartment ;
" perhaps your wishes may be quickly fulfilled." — " Oh ! Oh ! so that". . . .
— " 'Tis said they will be treated as they deserve" — meaning beheaded.
— "Precisely." — "Dogs !" Hernando was about to exclaim, but fortunately
restrained himself. — " The sooner the better/^ subjoined the gaoler. And now,
having completed their examination of the dungeon, they, according to custom,
placed their lanterns on the ground, and each approached the bed of a pri-
soner.* * * The two gaolers, satisfied that their prisoners were asleep, turned
their backs to the beds, to resume their lanterns and depart. But at this
instant both gentlemen sprang upon them, with unparalleled celerity, and
strongly grasping their throats, brought them to the ground before they could
speak a word, or recover from the alarm 'of so sudden and unexpected an
assault. " Utter an Oh ! and thou art dead, wretch," said Hernando to the
Aragonese gaoler, placing his knee upon his breast, and threatening him with
his own dagger, which, as well as his cutlass, he had just snatched from him j
whilst Don Diego held his opponent under equal subjection, telling him in a
calm voice, that he must not stir if he wished to live. " All resistance is use-
less, slaves," said Don Diego. " Ye are already disarmed, and under any cir-
cumstances we are more than a match for you."* * * * " Keep you that one
under control," he added; "and as for you, friend, get up and undress
yourself with all dispatch, if you would not try the temper of your own
dagger."
"The confounded and trembling gaoler obeyed, and when he had finished,
Don Diego again threw him upon the ground, where he tied his hands and
feet with the sheets of his bed, and stopped his mouth with a cloth, so that
he could not move nor call for help.
"When both gaolers were thus stripped and secured, Don Hernando and
Don Diego disguised themselves in their apparel, not forgetting their arms,
and still less the bunch of keys borne by one of them. Then, each taking
up a ready prepared and concealed bundle, they issued from their dungeon,
fervently recommending themselves to the protection of God, and closing
the doors with all the precautions usually employed to insure their own safe
custody by the gaolers, whose parts they were now to play.
"Neither Hernando nor Diego had seen anymore of the prison they in-
habited than their own apartment, except upon the day they were brought
thither. But the impression then made upon them was sufficient to enable
them, aided by the lights they bore, and walking very cautious, to reach the
guard- room, in which lay the soldiers wrapt in untroubled sleep. They
106 MODRRN SPANISH ROMANCE.
crossed it, unchallenged by the sentry, who, from their dress, believed them
to be the gaolers, and issued forth into the street."
The continuation, too long to extract, tells how they were enabled to quit
the town and reach the camp of Conde de Candespina. These samples
show the tenour and the style of this work by the Alferez Escosura. We
now pass to one of greater note.
The romance we mean is " Donna Isabel de Solis, Queen of Granada,"
Novela Historica, by Don Francisco Martinez de la Rosa. But before we
speak of the book, we would say a word or two of the author. There is,
perhaps, no more sad instance of the cruel effect of intestine strife upon
literature than the career of Martinez de la Rosa. Had his native land been
any other civilised country of Europe than Spain, this gifted writer would have
flourished in the full enjoyment of popularity, encouragement, and honour :
in Spain, his reward has been, first a captivity for years in an African dun-
geon, then exile, and eventually a necessity of exclusive devotion to politics
to obtain that rank and station which belonged of right to his genius and
birth. His earlier life has been one continued struggle to revive among his
countrymen a taste for learning and letters. He has appeared as an essayist,
a critic, an historian, a poet, a dramatist, in fine, as a writer in every style
and upon every subject. All his productions have much attraction, and
display ability of a superior order. In proof of his literary qualities, is the
fact of his being appreciated by a people capable of paying tribute to merit.
When driven from his country, Martinez de la Rosa wrote plays in France,
in the French language, which were successfully performed at Paris. On
his return to Spain, he became a distinguished partisan of that side mis-
named Liberal, in a country where liberality has no existence. Amid his
political greatness, however, he once more briefly resumed his pen, and in
1838 — a period when there seemed some chance of peace, he brought out
at Madrid the romance we are now going to describe.
The subject of " Donna Isabel de Solis" is taken from the later years of
the struggle between the Spaniards and the Moors for the territory of Gra-
nada. The heroine of the tale, Donna Isabel, is the daughter of Don Sancho
le Solis, governor of Martos, a fortress belonging to the knights of Calatrava,
nd situate on the very verge of the Moorish dominions. The strange and
omantic adventures of Isabel occupy the narrative. At the actual moment
.)f her marriage with a noble suitor, Pedro de Venegas, the wedding cere-
mony is surprised, and put an end to, by an irruption of the Moors. Isabel's
father and lover are slain, and she herself is carried into captivity. Here,
after a series of romantic incidents, she is induced, by her passion for the
Moorish king, Abu-1- Hassan, to forget her friends and country ; she be-
comes the unhappy bride of the Mussulman monarch, and ascends the throne
of Granada. The marriage eventually causes the fall of the Moorish power
in Spain. This romance, as a mere story, is not one of very great interest :
much of it is trivial and commonplace, and it frequently wants animation.
The historical portion, though fine of itself, is too prolix to be connected
with what is intended to be a stirring and adventurous tale. Still the work
exhibits much striking talent. Many of the descriptions are extremely
beautiful, especially'a lively and truly poetical picture which the author gives
of the city of Granada. The style and language of the romance through-
out are excellent ; the writing is pure without being antiquated, eloquent and
vigorous without affectation, and will afford no small gratification to those
who can appreciate the stately and sonorous dialect of Spain. As a spcci-
MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 107
men of the work, we give the following account of the fatal interruption to
the nuptials of Isabel de Solis at Martos : —
"The night fixed for the espousals at length arrived, and a silent calm
succeeded to the noise and bustle of the day, not unlike the tranquillity of
the ocean after a storm . The followers of the different guests, and the
menials of the castle, overcome with sleep and wine, lay dispersed about
the courts and corridors. A few only of the principal household servants,
and the ladies and knights who were to witness the ceremony, stood at the
door of the chapel in anxious expectation of the signal. A low murmur
announced at last the arrival of the bride and bridegroom with their friends,
and immediately afterwards a dozen pages, with a torch of wax in one hand,
and the cup in the other, were seen approaching the chapel with due solem-
nity and composure. They were followed by Isabel and Don Pedro, who,
deeply absorbed in their own thoughts, walked in silence, scarcely daring to
raise their eyes from the ground. Not so the Commendador, who, with
Don Alonso de Cordova and the Senor de Zuheros, walked with head erect
and cheerful countenance ; the cortege being closed by Isabel's handmaidens,
wrapt up in mantles, and by a few favoured esquires who had, by dint of
entreaty, obtained this signal distinction.
" The chapel of the castle was small and dark, and had'only one nave ; the
ceiling was of carved walnut,, the altar adorned with wooden images, placed
in gilt niches. But the antiquity of the retreat, and its rude ornaments,
raised the soul above worldly contemplation, and inspired sweet and melan-
choly reveries. The idea that there, under the marble flags with which the
chapel was paved, many of the ancestors of the Commendador slept in
peace, their ashes mingled with the earth redeemed by them from the
Moors, and their bodies lying under the altars which they had in life defended,
contributed not a little to impress the mind with religious feelings. In the
centre of the chapel, a foot above ground, rose a sepulchre, on which was
coarsely carved the figure of a young woman, with the hands crossed over
the breast, the feet joined, and the face looking up to heaven. It was that
of the mother of Isabel ; and the Commendador felt a degree of consola-
tion mixed with sorrow, in the thought that his sainted wife might witness
and bless their daughter's union from her tomb. The bride was already at
the foot of the altar, pale and tremulous ; the bridegroom by her side
breathless and agitated ; the minister of heaven was pronouncing the sacred
words, and on the point of receiving the fatal yes which was to unite them
until death, when suddenly an appalling shriek struck every one with horror.
The Commendador and his friends first thought it might be a scuifle among
the people of the castle ; but immediately after, the cry of " Fire !" and the
approach of a confused multitude, the clatter of arms, the precipitate step
of fugitives, .the groans of the wounded and dying, too plainly tcld the fatal
truth.
" Isabel fainted away in the arms of her husband ; her friends and retainers
fled panic- struck ; the Commendador rushed out like lightning to inquire
into the cause of the alarm, but was himself met at the door of the chapel
by the crowd of fugitives, who thronged to it for refuge. In vain did he
demand to be heard ; in vain he repeated question after question : no answer
could be obtained, his voice was drowned in cries and lamentations, as though
death were at hand. Alas ! it was but too near.
" The Moors on the frontiers, encouraged by a long peace, and secure of
making an easy prey of people plunged in heedless revelry, had, during the
night, scaled the walls of the castle, and, profiting by the negligence of the
108 MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.
drunken soldiers, they inundated its hall and courts, and began the work of
destruction with fire and sword. Many were the Christians who, on that
fatal night, passed from the arms of sleep into those of death ; others fled
to the chapel in hopes of finding an asylum, invoking the name of God,
which died in terror on their lips. But alas ! at sight of that holy retreat,
the fury of the infidels increased instead of abating, and they rushed among
the Christians like so many wolves into a sheep-fold. The Commendador,
immoveable as a statue, sword in hand awaited their attack ; and though
pierced with a hundred wounds, stood for some time fixed as rock, and then
staggered and fell, trailing himself towards the tomb of his wife, where he
breathed his last. Before the altar, the youthful Venegas was seen sustain-
ing Isabel, and protecting her with his own body from the blows of the
assailants. Scarcely was the young cavalier sensible of what passed round
him ; he had neither arms for defence, nor hope of succour from human
power ; regardless of his own life, his heart was agonised for the fate of his
beloved ! " Surrender or die !" exclaimed the chief of the invading party,
rushing forward to separate them. Venegas at that instant received a wound
in the forehead, embraced once, more his bride, and fell bathed in blgod at
her feet. Such was the end of a day begun under such happy auspices !
Who will put faith hi earthly joy, which so quickly flies before us ?"
Before quitting a melancholy contemplation of the present state of litera-
ture in Spain we must not forget to mention another Spaniard who sought
among ourselves that encouragement which the land of his birth could not,
or would not, give. Don Telesforo de Trueba, a man of great intellectual
acquirement, industry, and perseverance, produced, some twelve or fourteen
years ago, in the English language, in this country, several romances which
attained celebrity, and which are doubtless in the memory, or knowledge, of
many of our readers. A play of his was also performed at Covent Garden
Theatre. De Trueba subsequently went back to Spain, and, like Martinez
de la Rosa, took a prominent part among the supporters of the Queen ; he
died amid the political confusion which ensued. In this country he was
much regarded and esteemed by a circle of friends, and the news of his
death was received with sorrow. The fate of such men is grievous indeed,
branding, as it does, their country's degradation on the very face of Spain.
In conclusion we can only fervently say, God send deliverance and regenera-
tion to the land of Calderon and Cervantes !
109
CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.
No. XII. — THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF WILLTAM BARNARD, AND THE
DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.
THE writer of romance has ever been accused of sacrificing not only
the probable, but the possible, to the marvellous, — of concocting fable
that could have no foundation in fact, — describing scenes that could not
have occurred, and depicting character that could not have existed,
of building, in a word, on the slippery sands of fiction alone, regardless
alike of reason and reality. Is such, however, precisely his position ?
The most incomprehensible of his stories have been paralleled in every-
day life 3 and wonderful though his narrations, and wild and fanciful his
dreamings, the judicial historian bears ample testimony that he is
not altogether a visionary. The records of jurisprudence disclose
circumstances which have absolutely occurred, as strange as the
strangest to be found in the pages of romance — as difficult to be
accounted for, and as hard to be credited. Of these singular realities
one most remarkable is the following trial :—
The Duke of Marlborough here referred to, was Charles Spencer, fifth
Earl of Sunderland, grandson of the hero of Blenheim, and his successor
as second Duke of Marlborough, which title he inherited the 24th Octo-
ber, 1733, on the demise, unmarried, of his aunt, Henrietta, daughter of the
first Duke and herself Duchess of Marlborough in her own right. This
second Duke was himself a general of eminence, and fought with dis-
tinction at Dettingen : he died of a fever, the 28th October, 1758,
at Munsterin Westphalia: he was the great grandfather of the present
Duke of Marlborough.
The trial took place at the Old Bailey on the 10th and llth May,
1758: the able Sir Michael Foster, was among the judges present.
The narrative given on the side of the prosecution was this : —
After Mr. Moore had opened the indictment, Mr. Serjeant Davy
spoke as follows :
" May it please your lordships, and you gentlemen of the jury j
I am counsel in this cause for the prosecution against the prisoner at
the bar, who stands indicted on an act of Parliament made in the ninth
year of his late majesty, very well known by the name of the Black
Act. That act of parliament, reciting the several mischiefs, and consti-
tuting several felonies, amongst other things, enacts, That if any person
shall knowingly send any letter, without any name subscribed thereto,
or signed with a fictitious name, demanding money, venison, or other
valuable things ; every person so offending, being thereof lawfully con-
victed, shall be adjudged guilty of felony, and shall suffer death as
in cases of felony, without benefit of clergy.
It is on that act that this indictment now comes before you, that you
have heard read. You see it is for sending a letter j for it is on the first
110 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
of these letters that the present indictment is founded j the others are
sent in consequence of the first, and explanatory of his intentions.
I will open to you, as concisely as I can, the several circumstances we
have in evidence, in order to affect the prisoner at the bar : they are
circumstances of that nature, corresponding so exactly with the pri-
soner's case, affecting him so very minutely, that the several circum-
stances do infer, I had almost said an impossibility of his innocence :
you will find they all tally so exactly, they are so particularly relative to
him, that it will be offering violence to every rule of reason, not to find
him guilty.
Gentlemen, on the 29th of November, a letter was found under
the door of the Ordnance-office, directed to his Grace the Duke of
Marlborough : upon opening this letter, which was wrote in imitation
of print-hand, bearing date that day the 29th of November, it will
be necessary, for the sake of the following circumstances, to desire your
attention to the several parts. These are the words :
" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.
xxviiii November.
" My lord ; as ceremony is an idle thing upon most occasions, more
especially to persons in my state of mind, I shall proceed immediately
to acquaint you with the motive and end of addressing this epistle
to you, which is equally interesting to us both. You are to know then,
that my present situation in life is such, that I should prefer annihilation
to a continuance in it : desperate diseases require desperate remedies j
and you are the man I have pitched upon, either to make me, or
to unmake yourself. As I never had the honour to live among the
great, the tenor of my proposals will not be very courtly ; but let that
be an argument to enforce the belief of what I am now going to write.
It has employed my invention, for some time, to find out a method
to destroy another, without exposing my own life j that I have accom-
plished, and defy the law. Now for the application of it. I am despe-
rate, and must be provided for : you have it in your power, it is my
business to make it your inclination, to serve me ; which you must deter-
mine to comply with, by procuring me a genteel support for my life ; or
your own will be at a period before this session of parliament is over.
I have more motives than one for singling you out first, upon this occa-
sion ; and I give you this fair warning, because the means I shall make
use of are too fatal to be eluded by the power of physic. If you think
this of any consequence, you will not fail to meet the author on Sunday
next, at ten in the morning, or on Monday, (if the weather should
be rainy on Sunday) near the first tree beyond the stile in Hyde Park, in
the foot-walk to Kensington : secrecy and compliance may preserve you
from a double danger of this sort : as there is a certain part of the
world, where your death has more than been wished for, upon other
motives. I know the world too well, to trust this secret in any breast
but my own. A few days determine me your friend or enemy.
"FELTON."
" You will apprehend that I mean you should be alone ; and depend
upon it, that a discovery of any artifice in this affair will be fatal to you :
my safety is insured by my silence ; for confession only can con-
demn me."
This letter containing every thing that is dreadful, that might raise
apprehensions of terror, subscribed by a name which is painful to almost
THE ARISTOCRACY. Ill
every ear — the name Felton ! That was the name of the assassin that
stabbed the Duke of Buckingham at Portsmouth.
My lord duke, not intimidated by the letter, though greatly surprised
at it, and willing to find out the author, was not afraid to endeavour to
apprehend him ; he went alone to the spot, and at the time appointed j
however, there was some attendant on his Grace at a distance, in order
to observe what passed on the occasion. My lord duke had been there
some time on horseback, and as much undressed as a man of his quality
is. He had pistols before him j he had been there some time, and saw
nobody at all at that particular place. After waiting some considerable
time, he was returning, and observed a person come to the particular
spot just by the tree beyond the stile in Hyde Park, by the foot- walk to
Kensington : that person held a handkerchief to his mouth in a seeming
disconsolate manner, looking into the water, and stood still a very con-
siderable while. Upon his Grace seeing this, that the man was not
pursuing any way, the Duke had no doubt in his own mind, but that
this man (be he who he would) must be the person who had sent him
this letter. The man sauntering just at the place, the Duke rode up to
the spot, expecting the person would speak to him : his Grace asked the
man, Whether he wanted to speak to him ? He said, "No." — " Sir," said
the Duke, "do you know me ? I am the Duke of Marlborough j telling
you that, perhaps you have something to say to me." "No, my lord."
No notice being taken, the Duke came away.
Gentlemen, you see, that this was an appointment on a Sunday
to meet at a place where several people might be supposed to be
walking. What was the view of that person may be seen by-and-bye.
The author of this letter speaks of his being exceedingly guarded
against the possibility of a detection ; he boasts of the care and caution
he had used for that purpose, — he defies the law, — nothing but confession
could condemn him, — his safety was insured by his silence, — he knew
the world too well, to trust this secret in any breast but his own.
A few days after, in the same week, the Duke received a second letter.
This also was put under the door of the Office of Ordnance, and was
also wrote in imitation of a print-hand : but the directions of both the
letters are not ; there will be occasion to take notice of that circumstance
by-and-bye. The second letter is in these words :
" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.
"My lord ; You receive this as an acknowledgment of your punctu-
ality as to the time and place of meeting on Sunday last, though it was
owing to you that it answered no purpose. The pageantry of being
armed, and the ensign of your order, were useless, and too conspicuous :
you needed no attendant ; the place was not calculated for mischief, nor
was any intended. If you walk in the west aisle of Westminster Abbey,
towards eleven o'clock on Sunday next, your sagacity will point out the
person, whom you will address by asking his company to take a turn or
two with you. You will not fail, on enquiry, to be acquainted with the
name and place of abode ; according to which directions you will please
to send two or three hundred pound bank notes the next day by the
penny post. Exert not your curiosity too early : it is in your power to
make me grateful on certain terms. I have friends who are faithful j
but they do not bark before they bite. I am, &c. &c. F."
Gentlemen, you see, the writer of the second letter speaks of being
himself in the Park, or at least of knowing that the Duke was there, at
VOL. iv. NO. xvi. K
112 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
the time and place appointed : and therefore this was a farther circum-
stance to convince the Duke, that the person, whom he had seen the
Sunday before in Hyde Park, and spoke to, was the writer of the
second letter. You see it speaks of the Duke's punctuality as to the
time and place of meeting, the particular dress his grace was in, and
assigns that as the reason of not speaking to him the Sunday before : so
you see, gentlemen, that circumstance, which was a little unaccountable
of itself/of the Duke's not being owned by the person whom he had
seen on the Sunday before, is by the second letter accounted for; —
"The pageantry of being armed, and the ensign of his order." He had
then only a star on, and that perhaps an old one, so as not to be conspi-
cuous : so that this accounts for the person's not speaking to the Duke
in Hyde Park. There can be no doubt at all, but that the writer of the
second was the writer of the first letter.
The consequence then of this second appointment to meet the writer
of the letters in the west aisle of Westminster Abbey, you wijj observe
public places were appointed, and at public times ; the first in Hyde
Park, the second in prayer-time at Westminster Abbey, where the Duke
was <e by his sagacity to point out the person" — the writer of this letter.
The Duke accordingly went to Westminster Abbey, to the west aisle
(though indeed, properly speaking, we don't know which to call the
west aisle, the church standing east and west). His grace went to the
western-most part of the Abbey, and observed nobody lurking or
standing in circumstances suspicious : after a little time, his grace
was surprized to see that the same person, whom he had seen the
Sunday before exactly at the spot in Hyde Park, appeared just in this
place at the west end of Westminster Abbey ; but he was surprised the
more, that this person did not speak to him. Perhaps his grace had not
then considered the tenor of this letter ; for it was not to be expected,
that the writer would address the Duke, but rather refers to the Duke's
sagacity : — " Your sagacity will point out the person j" it then directs,
" whom you will address by asking his company to take a turn or two
with you." His grace perhaps did not consider this exactly ; but
waiting some time for the person to speak to him, and finding he did
not, his grace asked him, " Sir, have you any thing to say to me ?" — " No,
my lord." t{ Have you nothing at all to say to me ?" — " No." " Have you
nothing at all to say to me ?" No, he had nothing to say to him. Now
I should have mentioned to you, when this person came into the Abbey,
another person came in with him, who seemed by his appearance
to be a substantial tradesman, a good sort of man. These two persons,
after stopping and looking about at the monuments near the west gate
of the Abbey, the Duke being sure one of them was the same man he
had seen before in Hyde Park, his grace thought proper to go and stand
by them, to see if that person would speak to him. Seeing the duke
took no notice of him, they both went towards the choir : the stranger
went into the choir, and the man that his grace had seen in the Park,
came back again (leaving his friend there) to the spot where the duke
was. The duke then asked him, whether he had any thing to say to
him ? No, he had nothing at all to say to him. No, he had nothing at
all to say. Then the duke walked a little on the other side of the
aisle, to see whether the man would follow him, or had a mind to speak
to him at another spot. He observed the man looked eagerly at him j
may-be it may be understood, he expected the duke's "sagacity would
THE ARISTOCRACY. 113
point out the man." However, the duke did not do what the letter
required, that is, ask him to take a turn with him.
At this second time there was somebody that was with the duke
(when I say with him, I don't mean close to him, but) near enough, so
as to take notice what passed, in order to apprehend the person, so as to
put it beyond all doubt that he was the author of those letters. The
duke, and this attendant of his, went out at the west door of the Abbey,
in order to go to his coach. Now you will find by-and-bye, in the next
letter, that the writer of these letters took notice of this attendant, but
was under no apprehension of being watched by any body else ; and
that will account for those circumstances I am going to mention:
as soon as the duke went out of the Abbey, that man, whom the duke
had seen at both these places, watched the duke out of the Abbey, and
as soon as his grace had passed the door of the Abbey, he went up, hid
himself in a corner, concealed from a possibility of being seen by
his grace in case he had looked back, and so watched him into his coach.
It maybe asked, why his grace, upon having such clear conviction in
his mind, that that person must be the writer of both the letters, did not
apprehend him ? his grace will tell you, he did not think himself justified
in so doing j he could not reconcile it to his own mind to take up
a man, where there was a possibility of his innocence.
Gentlemen, a few days after this, came a third letter to the duke,
wrapped up in a very small compass, and directed to his Grace the Duke
of Maryborough at his house. You will see, by comparing the direc-
tion, that this third letter was wrote by the writer of the first letter : It
begins, " My lord, I am fully convinced you had a companion on
Sunday." So far it is proved, that the writer of these letters was in the
Park on the first Sunday, and saw the duke there ; and was in the Abbey
on the second Sunday, and saw the duke there ; and that it was the
same man that the duke saw at both these times. — " I interpret it
as owing to the weakness of human nature : but such proceedings
is far from beiag ingenious, and may produce bad effects, whilst it is
impossible to answer the end proposed." — Guarded through all. " You
will see me again soon, as it were by accident, and may easily find
where I go to ; in consequence of which, by being sent to, 1 shall wait
on your grace, but expect to be quite alone, and converse in whispers.
You will likewise give your honour, upon meeting, that no part of the
conversation shall transpire." — So that you see, as he was guarded
before, he was determined to make it impossible to be discovered :
if they were to converse in whispers, and to be quite alone, it was
impossible for other evidence to rise up against him — " These and
the former terms complied with, insure your safety ; my revenge, in
case of non-compliance, (or any scheme to expose me) will be slower,
but not less sure, and strong suspicion the utmost that can possibly
ensue upon it." — You see, how artful he had contrived it : he was
determined that nothing more than strong suspicion should ever be
in evidence against him — "While the chances will be tenfold against
you. You will possibly be in doubt after the meeting, but it is quite
necessary the outside should be a mask of the in. The family of
the BLOODS is not extinct, though they are not in my scheme." — The
word BLOODS is in capital letters. That is a dreadful name ? As Felton
was the villain who assassinated the Duke of Buckingham, so this is the
name of the fellow who seized the Duke of Ormond, and was going
i 2
114 CURIOUS TRIALS COXNKCTED WITH
to carry him to Tyburn to execute him, and also who stole the crown
out of the Tower of London.
You see, gentlemen, by this third letter, that the duke was to expect
to hear something farther from the writer of these letters. It contains
no appointment, but leads the duke to expect he shall see the writer
again as by accident, and was to observe where he should go to, that the
duke might know where to send for him ; and that he would come in
consequence of being sent for ; but when he came to the duke the
terms were, to be a secret conversation, not in the presence of a
third person, and that too by whispers, and the duke promising, upon his
honour, that no part of it should transpire, without which he was
not led to think the writer should disclose anything at all. The first
letter was dated and received the 29th November, the second received
the next week, the third in the second week of December, and the last
was some time in April.
The duke waited, expecting to hear farther ; but heard nothing more
until the middle of April. About the 14th there came a letter to
his grace, wrote in a mean hand, but not in imitation of a print hand, as
the others were. These are the words of the fourth letter:
" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.
" May it please your grace j I have reason to believe, that the son of
one Barnard, a surveyor in Abingdon-buildings, Westminster, is ac-
quainted with some secrets that nearly concern your safety: his father
is now out of town, which will give you an opportunity of questioning
more privately. It would be useless to your grace, as well as dan-
gerous to me, to appear more publicly in this affair. — Your sincere
friend, ANONYMOUS."
"He frequently goes to Storey's-gate coffee-house."
Gentlemen, the duke sent for Mr. Barnard, the son of Mr. Barnard,
according to the directions in that letter. This letter, you will see, bears
no date at all j no memorandum, or any thing which could possibly
indicate when the letter was sent, or when the duke received it. The
duke, when Mr. Barnard came, was sitting in his room ; and though
upon opening the door of the outer room (which was at three score
yards distance from where the duke was,) yet the moment Mr. Barnard
entered the room, he was sure that was the man he had seen both
in the Park and in the Abbey. Though the duke had no doubt in his
own mind on the former circumstances, that the person whom he
had seen before was the writer of the first letter, now he was fully con-
vinced that he was the writer of all the letters. The duke was deter-
mined the scheme should not so far take effect, as to engage himself
upon his honour, that no part of the conversation should transpire ; if
so, nothing could have prevailed upon him to prosecute : therefore you
are not to expect he complied with a conversation in whispers, and
a promise on the duke's part, that no part of the conversation should
transpire. The third letter will tell you, that the person that entered the
room was the writer of all these letters. As soon as he came into the
room, the duke took him to the window, and asked him, whether
he wanted to speak with him? "No, my lord." — "No, Sir! I have
received a letter, which tells me, that you are acquainted with some cir-
cumstances that nearly concern my safety." — "Not I, my lord." " This is
very surprising, Sir! this is the letter;" and showed him the last letter.
Still the duke had not given him any promise at all of not exposing the
THE ARISTOCRACY. 115
conversation. " Sir, it is very odd that you should be pointed out to
me, to acquaint me with some circumstances relating to my safety,
because it mentions some circumstances as to the time, the place
where you are to be found, your father's being out of town, and the
like." The prisoner incautiously said immediately, " My lord, my father
was out of town at that time." — " At what time, Sir ? The letter bears
no date, nor have I mentioned to you a syllable when I received it : how
came you to know when I received this letter, that you should tell me,
your father was not in town at that time ? You speak clearly, as
knowing when I received this letter ; therefore give me leave on this
occasion to tell you, that I do not only suspect you know of this letter,
but that you have sent to me some other letters that I have received
before :" then acquainting him with the other three letters, his grace
observing upon them, that it was very odd and strange, that the letters
corresponded so exactly and decisively on him, he being always at
the places at the time appointed, and that he being the person named in
the fourth letter too, and that he knew the time of the duke's receiving
that letter, the duke put it upon him, " Sir/V'am surprised at the writer
of this letter ; one should suppose from the style, and its being gram-
matically wrote, that the person who wrote it, had had some share
of education j at least I am surprised that a man that has had any
education at all, can descend to such a means of getting money."
"My lord, your grace need not be surprised at thatj a man may
be learned and very poor." Very fond was he of softening things.
" My lord, you need not be affrighted : I dare say the writer of these
letters is a very mad man.*' " Why ! you are very much concerned
to apologize for the writer hereof," said the duke. Picking out this
circumstance, the man does not know me, he expresses his very great
surprise at my appearing in the Park with the ensign of my order, and
my being armed — as incautious as he had been before, he is incautious
upon that too, and said, " Indeed I was surprised to see your grace
armed." "Was you so ?" said the duke. "Was you surprised to
see me armed ? Can any man doubt a moment who wrote these letters ?
But, however, Mr. Barnard, as you insist upon it, and declare so
solemnly your innocence, I will not so far invade the laws of hospitality,
whatever crime you have done." (He would not for the world appre-
hend a man in his own house whom he had sent for ; he let him go safe
home again ; it was for that reason he would not give his promise not
to reveal the conversation j but in regard to the public he was deter-
mined to prosecute.) The duke said to him, " Sir, if you are not
the writer of these papers, it much becomes you to find out who is j
for your name is particularly mentioned in this last letter ; either you
are the writer, or allow me to say, somebody else owes you very ill-will
that was the writer of them." I am relying merely on the terms of the
last letter, wherein he was to inform his grace of things that nearly
concerned his safety, so much to the hazard of his own life ? What
became him, as having a regard to his own reputation and safety ? To
determine, as far as in his power, to find out the writer ; nay to have
given the duke assurance that he would do it : instead of that, what was
his behaviour ? A smile of contempt — an unmannerly laugh in the
duke's face, as if it did not concern him at all.
Gentlemen, I should think that to this there can hardly be a circum-
stance added more clearly to convince any man alive of the circum-
116 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
stances of this man's being the author of these letters ; but you will
iind afterwards the prisoner (for what reason let him tell if he can)
told his grace, he had desired his companion that was with him in
Westminster Abbey to leave him : Why ? " Because he thought the
duke wanted to tell him of some place he had for him." Good God !
how could he imagine he wanted to tell him of a place ? A person
whom he had never seen before he saw him in the Park, how could he
expect that ? This was his awkward reason for desiring his companion
to leave him.
I beg pardon, if I have omitted any thing ; these are the circum-
stances that have occurred to me on this occasion ; they are so strong
and necessary in the proof of the prisoner's guilt, that I will venture
to say, it is much more satisfactory to an indifferent person, than posi-
tive testimony — the positive testimony of any man, as men are liable to
mistakes, as mistake in time, a mistake in persons, will exceedingly vary
the case j but variety of circumstances, which tally in their own
nature, cannot lie or deceive.
This prosecution is commenced merely for the sake of justice ; I am
instructed to say from his grace, it is perfectly indifferent to him
what will be the issue of the trial : he thought it his duty to come here,
and leave it to his country to determine as they shall think proper."
The evidence, which bore out this address, and which was unshaken
by cross-examination, need not be given here ; but the extraordinary part
of the story is in the prisoner's complete answer to the accusation. In
his defence the prisoner merely said, "I am entirely innocent of this
affair with which I am charged. I leave it to the Court and the
jury, with the evidence that will be produced." He then brought the fol-
lowing testimony.
John Barnard was sworn,
J. Barnard. I am father to the prisoner at the bar.
What is his employ ? — He is employed in my business as a builder
and surveyor principally ; in not only that, and drawing plans, but also
in receiving great sums of money.
Have his accounts always stood right and clear? — They always have.
Do you look upon him to be a sober man ? — I have had great reason
to believe him such, more particularly lately.
Has he been possessed of large sums of money ? — He has, of consi-
derable sums 5 I have oftener asked him for money than he me.
Had you any occasion to send him to Kensington on Sunday the 4th
of December? — I had nothing, but circumstances brought the day to
my mind since : I gave him an order on that Sunday morning, when we
were at breakfast, to go to Kensington, to know whether there was some
money paid by the treasurer of the turnpikes for gravel : I have a bro-
ther there, named Joseph} he went there and did his business, and dined
with my brother.
How do you know that? — Because he told me so ; and the solicitor
of the turnpike told me he had been with him, and in consequence of
which I had my money afterwards.
Have you ever heard your son take any notice of his meeting with the
Duke of Marlborough that day ? — When he came home, he told me,
he had met the Duke of Marlborough, and these circumstances of his
grace's taking notice of him j he mentioned it as an extraordinary thing.
THE ARISTOCRACY. 117
I asked him, if he had not looked a little impudently (as he has a near
sight) at him, or pulled his glass out ? — He said, he saw another gentle-
man at a distance, and the duke was armed ; and he imagined there
might be a duel going forward ; he has from that time to this mentioned
it as a very strange event several times in my house, without any reserve
at all.
Cross examination.
At the time you sent your son to Kensington on the 4ih of December,
suppose you had not given him an order to go there, whether he was
not at liberty to go where he pleased? — Yes j I never restrain him.
Did he say he was surprised to see the duke without a great coat ? —
I cannot remember that particular.
Did you hear him mention his seeing the Duke of Marlborough in
Westminster-Abbey ? — I have very often, and very publicly, and with
some surprise j as he has that in Hyde-Park. I said to him, I would
not have you be public in speaking of things in this kind, lest a use be
made of it to your disadvantage.
Thomas Barnard sworn.
T. Barnard. I am first cousin to the prisoner at the bar. On Satur-
day the 3rd of December I was at Kensington, and lay at my uncle's
house there and dined there. On the Sunday the prisoner came there
before dinner, he said he had been to do some business that way. He
dined with us 5 there were my uncle, aunt, he and I ; he related that
circumstance to us of meeting with the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-
Park j he said he rode up to him, and asked if he knew who he was ;
he answered, No j he replied, I am the Duke of Marlborough. He re-
lated it with some cheerfulness, though as a matter of surprise.
How long have you known the prisoner ? — From his birth : he is in
business with his father ; I always understood he would succeed his fa-
ther j I never knew him to behave any otherwise than well in my life.
I never thought him extravagant, nor never heard so; I had always
looked upon him to be an honest man ; his father is in very great
business.
Should you look upon it, that a small place would be equal to the
chance of succeeding his father in his business ? — I should never have
thought of such a thing j I looked upon his situation in life to be a very
extraordinary thing : I thought he would give the preference to that
above any thing else.
Cross-examination.
Do you think he would refuse a good place ? — No man would refuse
a place that is to his advantage.
Joseph Barnard sworn.
J. Barnard. I am uncle to the prisoner at the bar ; I live at Ken-
sington ; my nephew, Thomas Barnard, lay at my house on the Satur-
day night, and dined with the prisoner at the bar on the Sunday. I re-
member he then mentioned having met with the Duke of Marlborough
in Hyde-Park, while we were sitting at dinner. I said I was surprised
he should meet with him that day; he said he saw but one gentleman
at a distance, and the duke was armed ; and his grace looked him full
in the face, very earnestly (which he seemed to speak with a great deal
of pleasure to me) ; he is very near-sighted, he can see nothing at a dis-
tance without the use of a glass. I have heard him since speak four or
five times of seeing the duke in Westminster-Abbey.
113 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
How long ago ? — About a month ago. He is brought up under his
father in very considerable business, and a man of some property besides,
and was employed as his clerk or book-keeper.
Is he a sober man ? — Very sober ; I never heard to the contrary ;
neither did I ever hear his father speak of him as idle or dilatory.
Thomas Calcut sworn.
T. Calcut. I live at Kensington : I remember the prisoner coming
there on a Sunday morning ; a very cold, foggy morning : with some
message from his father to me, to know whether the solicitor had paid
some money or not. He was under his father, as I am under mine ; he
desired me to go with him ; I said, stay and dine with me : he said, he
could not promise, because he had promised to dine with his uncle
Joseph ; he went into the parlour, and said, it is vastly cold : there has
been the oddest accident happened as J came over the Park ! the Duke
of Marlborough came up to me, and asked me, if I knew him ? I said,
No. He asked me, if I wanted any thing with him ? — I told him, No.
He said, I am the Duke of Marlborough, if you want any thing with me j
then the duke went away, and he came there. He expressed a great
surprise at it, and I thought it a very odd affair.
Henry Clive, Esq. sworn.
H. Clive. I have known the prisoner two years ; I remember dining
with him on the 8th December, at his father's house, with a great deal
of company j I heard him then say at dinner, that some few days before,
he had met the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-Park ; that the duke
asked him, if he had any business with him ? He said, No ; he then
told him who he was, and asked him the same again j he said, No.
That the duke seemed in some confusion, and was armed ; and he
thought he was about a duel ; and indeed I thought it was a very great
lie. I have gone very frequently to his father's in relation to Brentford
Bridge. I have no other acquaintance with him, only going to his fa-
ther's, so cannot say any thing to his character, either frugal or extra-
vagant.
Can you name any body that dined there that day? — Yes, there was
Mr. Wilson and his lady, Mr. Tunstall and his lady, another gentleman
and his wife, and the prisoner's younger brother that is at Westminster
school.
Mrs. Mary Wilson, sworn.
Mrs. Wilson. I dined at Mr. Barnard's on Tuesday the 8th December j
the prisoner I remember said he had been in Hyde-Park some days be-
fore, and there he saw a gentleman on horseback come up to him, and
ask him, if he had anything to say to him? He said, No; then he
said, I am the Duke of Marlborough, now you know me, have you any
thing to say to me ? He said, No. He talked of this very freely to us all.
James Greenwood sworn.
Greenwood. I live at Deptford, with a relation in the brewing-way ;
I came from Deptford on Saturday to the prisoner's father's ; and on
the Sunday following I was there at breakfast ; I solicited the prisoner
to get himself dressed to go with me into the Park, being to meet a per-
son at twelve o'clock ; I with a good deal of difficulty got him to dress
himself j I put my shirt on in the parlour, and after that he put on his ;
I fancy we breakfasted about nine o'clock ; when we got to the end of
Henry VIFs chapel, the prisoner would have gone the other way into
the Park without going through the Abbey j I took hold of his sleeve,
THE ARISTOCRACY. 119
and said, Barnard, you shall go through the Abbey ; this was a little
after a eleven ; this was no unusual thing j we have several times walked
in the Park, and sometimes parted.
Which is the nearest way to the Park } — I do not know which is the
nearest way, through the Abbey, or by the side of it ; this was the first
time I believe that I ever, saw the monument of General Hargrave.
After that we walked to the monument erected at the public expence
for Captain Cornwall ; the preacher was in the pulpit ; when we were
standing at Captain Cornwall's monument, the prisoner made some
observation on the execution of it in his own way. After we had
stayed there some time, I saw his grace the Duke of Marlborough, who
was got pretty near us j upon seeing the duke, I jogged him by the
elbow, and said, step this way ; he seemed to look at him.
Had you heard what happened in Hyde-Park, previous to this r — I
had j I believe it was told me by the prisoner at the bar ; on my jogging
him we walked up the middle aisle towards the choir. I said, Did you
see that gentleman in the blue coat, or do you know him ? No, said
he, not I, No, said I, it is the Duke of Marlborough ; we will walk to
the monument again. The duke came, and placed himself pretty near
me a second time j after this we walked away. I believe we walked
some considerable time in that aisle in which is the monument of Sir
Godfrey Kneller, there I believe we passed and repassed again.
Why did you jog him ? — Because he is very near-sighted. At last, I
think it so happened, we passed the duke between two of the pillars j
and as I had hold of his arm walking together, there was barely room
for three people to pass a-breast j the duke rather gave way, and made,
as I thought, a kind of a bow. Upon this I said, the Duke of Marlbo-
rough's behaviour is extremely particular j he certainly has something to
say to you ; 1 suppose he does not choose to say it while I am with you,
I will go into the choir, and do you walk up and down here, and he will
possibly speak to you. While I was there, I looked j the first thing I
saw was the Duke of Marlborough and the prisoner at the bar, with
their heads bowing together, as if it was the first salutation.
Had the prisoner the least inclination to go into the Abbey before you
proposed it to him ? — No ; he did not discover any.
Did he discover any inclination to be left alone, when you pro-
posed to go into the choir ? — No, he did not in the least ; in some few
minutes after, the prisoner and I met together, he told me the Duke of
Marlborough was gone out of the Abbey, he had seen him go out. I
said, what passed ? To which he replied, the duke said, did you speak
to me? or who spoke first I cannot tell.
In this transaction did the prisoner appear openly, or if he had some
secret transaction to do with the duke ? — No, it was open and clear.
Did you see the duke come in ? — No, I did not ; we were employed
in looking at the monuments ; we looked at several.
What did you do when you first came in ? — We walked along, and
looked on the monuments.
Did you see the prisoner's eye fixed on any person ? — No, I did not.
Is Mr. Barnard very near sighted ? — He is ; J question whether he
can be able to see a person across this room.
Where did you go, when you went out of the Abbey ? — We went im-
mediately into the Park j and after walking there, we met with two
ladies whom I knew, and to whom Mr. Barnard was not unknown, to
120 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
whom we related this affair j he always repeated these things, that is,
this and that in Hyde-Park, as matter of great curiosity.
How long have you been acquainted with him r — I have been ac-
quainted with him seven years.
What is his character? — I know nothing to the contrary but that he
is an industrious, sober young man.
Did you ever hear that he was a profligate, expensive man ? — No, never.
His father is in great business, is he not ? — His father's business is a
very considerable thing.
William Ball, sworn.
Ball. I am the master of Storey's-gate coffee-house ; I remember
Mr. Merrick coming to my house, to enquire for Mr. Barnard ; he asked
me, if Mr. Barnard was at my house? I said, leave any message, I will
deliver it to him j he said, he wanted to see him that evening ; he left his
message, I delivered it to him, and he came rather before eight o'clock to
him. He has used my house some years, always a well-behaved man ; I never
perceived any extravagancy in him, always a sober, regular man. I have
heard him speak of having met the Duke of Maryborough, but not till
after this : he said he had been to his grace, at his grace's house j this
was as he called at my house, after he had been there.
Did he mention what had passed ? — No, he did not ; only that he had
seen his grace.
Cross-examination.
Did he not tell you any thing that passed ? — He did not tell me a
syllable of it.
What did you say to him } — I told him, may-be he was going to have
a commission ; he said, he would not thank his grace, except it was a
very good one.
How did he appear as to cheerfulness, or dullness, or the like ? — He
seemed to be very cheerful, not in the least concerned j the same as
usual, composed, rather more cheerful.
Counsel. We will now shew his behaviour after he was apprehended.
Mr. Ford. While he was in custody, Mr. Fielding did me the honour
of sending for me ; he told me it was upon some business which con-
cerned the Duke of Marlborough's life ; he asked me to go along with
him and Mr. Box to New Prison, which I consented to ; we went toge-
ther in a coach j this was about twelve at night, and Mr. Barnard was
then in bed j I have really forgot what day it was : Mr. Fielding told
him, he had omitted examining his pockets at the time he was before
him -, he then searched his pockets, in order to see whether he had any
letters, or any writings that might give light into the affairs ; he very
readily let me look into his pocket-book and papers. Mr. Fielding with
great candour told him, he was in the hands of a very honourable pro-
secutor, and one that would be as glad to discover his innocence as his
guilt. Mr. Fielding asked him for his keys, and he gave him the keys
of his scrutoire and compting-house with great readiness ; and I remem-
ber that I then told him, that, if he was guilty, some copies might be
found to correspond with the original letters ; and if nothing of that
sort did appear, it would be a circumstance in his favour.
Did you or Mr. Fielding tell him he was not obliged to part with his
keys, and did he do it as a matter of choice ? — I do not recollect that ;
I know he parted with them very readily.
The Rev. Dr. Markham sworn.
Dr. Markham. I have known the prisoner some years; I have always
THE ARISTOCRACY. 121
considered him as a young man of remarkable sobriety, and attention to
business : I have had some experience of him ; I entrusted him with the
execution of some matters of importance relating to myself, in regard to
surveying and valuing estates, in which he acquitted himself ably and
honestly j that is the character he always had : he lives in my neighbour-
hood, his father is a man of considerable property, and carries on a large
business.
Then you don't suppose the prisoner to be in distressed circumstances?
— I never supposed it, I have no reason to imagine it; if he had come
to me, wanting money, he might easily have imposed on me, he might
have had any thing of me ; he is one of the chief persons I trusted, and
I don't know a man on whom I would have had a greater reliance ; I
thought him remarkably able in his business, and very likely to be a
considerable man ; and I never was more astonished in my life than
when I heard this strange story.
Samual Cox, Esq. sworn.
S. Cox. I have known Mr. Barnard about the space of three years
last past. The beginning of my acquaintance was on the account of
his surveying of houses in the New-Square, Dean's-Yard j the surveys
were generally made by him j he did his business with such accuracy,
that I have always thought him a man very attentive to his business, and
very unlikely of being charged with this fact ; and upon his being em-
ployed upon public schemes, I employed him in my own affairs. I em-
ployed his father to finish some houses for me at Hamersmith, the son
was constantly employed till the 6th of April last ; I have at different
times paid to Mr. Barnard about £700 all paid into the hands of the
prisoner, except £50 or £70 of it. He has appeared as the person that
managed his father's business : if he had come to me, and mentioned
any want of money, upon his father's being out of town, or that like, he
might have had £200 or £30Q at any time. When I first was acquainted
with him, I observed he had a remarkable short sight j when he has looked
full at me, I have thought he sneered at me ; he has such a fall with his
eye-lids on the account of his short-sightedness ; I have found his eyes
so fixed upon me, that I have been going to speak to him, which by my
long acquaintance with him I since found was only an accident.
Robert Vansittart, Esq. sworn.
R. Vansittart. I have known Mr. Barnard about five or six years j
my acquaintance with him was by being acquainted with his father, who
was employed in carrying on a large building for Mr. Lee, an acquaint-
ance of mine in Oxfordshire j and these five years I have been ac-
quainted with the son, and frequently in company with him. In the be-
ginning of April he was in my chamber, putting up some book-cases ;
I remember one morning 'at breakfast he told me the circumstance of
meeting the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-Park and in Westminster
Abbey, in the same way as the Court has been told from his grace and
the rest of the witnesses : it appeared to me to be a very strange story,
and he seemed to tell it as such, as I or any body else would have told it.
I suspended my judgment upon it, and never related it to any body, only
to my father and another gentleman, and they looked upon it as a great
lie that Barnard had invented j I, knowing his character, did not take it
as such, but thought he must have known it to be as he said.
What is your opinion of him as to his business ? — From my own per-
sonal acquaintance with him, and from the many surveys I have seen of
122 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH
his, be certainly is very capable and master of his business. I never
heard any thing ill as to his private character.
Did you ever see him write ? — No ; he draws very well; I have seen
him draw.
John Smith, Esq. sworn.
J. Smith. I have known him eight or ten years, and his father's
family twenty-five. He always appeared an industrious, sober, diligent
man, particularly within these four or five years, since he has come into
business wilh his father. I considered him as a very promising genius
in his way, and one capable of conducting his business with reputation
and character.
Did you look upon him likely to be driven to distress, or in want of a
place ? — No, I did not. I can with great truth say, most of the pay-
ments in my compting-house, on his father's account, have most of
them been paid by the hands of this young man ; except the last £500 ;
then Mr. Barnard and his wife came over and dined with me, and paid
it j and then I blamed him for not bringing his son.
What are you ? I am a timber merchant.
Joshua Smith, Esq., sworn.
Josh. Smith, I am in partnership with my father, the last evidence.
I have known the prisoner several years ; I always thought him a very
honest, sober man, capable in his profession : the money that has been
paid to us lately, except that £500, has been by him ; they never paid
less than £100 at a time, except once.
Have you any reason to imagine him in desperate circumstances? —
There is no reason as I know of to imagine so.
Robert Tunstall, Esq. sworn.
R. Tunstall. I have known him two years.
What is his general character? — He is industrious, and very capable
of his business. His behaviour has been prudent ; he is the principal
man in his father's business in drawing and scheming.*
Mr. Peter Brit shell sworn.
P. Brushell. I have known him from a child.
What ,s his character ? — I always took him to be a very sober, honest
man. His father has done a great deal of business for me, and is now
at work for me.
Who did you generally pay the money to ? — I generally paid the
father j if the prisoner had applied to me, I would have let him have
£100 at any time.
Is he capable of business ? — He is very capable : he drew a plan
for me last Saturday was se'nnight.
Did you look upon him to be in desperate or distressed circumstances ?
No, I did not.
Has he always been a visible man ? — Always.
Mr. Jelfe sworn.
Jelfe. I am the king's mason. 1 have known the prisoner seven
years or more.
Do you look upon him to be capable of his business ? — I believe
he is a very capable man in his business.
What is his general character? — Always a very worthy, honest man.
Did you ever see him guilty of any extravagancy ? — No, never.
Do you live near him ? — I am a very near neighbour to him, and keep
him company on evenings, within this year or two more particularly.
* Mr. John Barnard, the father of the prisoner, built Kew Bridge for this Mr. Tunstall.
THE ARISTOCRACY. 123
William Robinson, Esq. sworn.
Robinson. I have known him about six or seven years.
Is he a person capable of his profession ? — I believe he is.
What has been his behaviour? — I always looked upon him to be
a very sober, diligent, frugal man.
Did you look upon him to be in desperate circumstances ? — No, not
at all.
Thomas Kynaston, Esq. sworn.
Kynaston. I have known him six or seven years.
What are you ? — I belong to the board of works.
What is your opinion of the prisoner's situation ? — I think he is in a
good one.
What has been his behaviour ? — That has been always good.
Mr. Keynton Cowse sworn.
Cowse. I have known him seven years, and been in his company
many times.
What is his character ? — He is a very worthy young man, sober and
industrious, always attending his father's business.
Mr. Uffort sworn.
Uffort. I have known him about six or seven years ; he is a sober
sedate young man as ever I met with. I have done business for him
several times.
Mr. Brent sworn.
Brent. I have known. him upwards of three years.
What is his character ? — He has a good character j he is a very indus-
trious man. I have frequently paid him money.
Mr. Jones sworn.
Jones. I have known him several years.
What is his general character? — He is very honest; no ways
extravagant, that could lead him in into a desperate state j he is as
moral a man as any I know, and has had as good a character.
Mr. Wilson sworn.
Wilson. I have known him about seven years.
What has been his behaviour during that time ? — It has been always
very well. I always looked upon him as an honest man.
Did you ever look upon him to be in a desperate way in his fortune ?
— No, never.
Q to Mr. Barnard the elder. Where was you when your son was sent
for to the Duke of Marl borough's ? — Mr. Barnard. I was then out
of town. I have not been in town above one week these five or six
weeks.
Mr. Sergeant Davy, evidently shaken in his own mind by these
witnesses, commented in his reply, with much acumen though fairly,
on the evidence ; when he had concluded, the jury at once acquitted the
prisoner, and a second indictment against him was then abandoned
by the prosecution. To complete the mystery, the Duke died within the
year of the period of this investigation, before the session had expired, and
the matter remains to this day unexplained.
124
THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND.
Castle,
THE SEAT OP THE EARL OF HOWTH.
And dance and song within these walls have sounded,
And breathing music rolled in dulcet strains,
And lovely feet have o'er these gray stones bounded
In snowy garments and embroidered trains —
Such things have been.
ABOUT nine miles rapid railroad travelling brought me from the metropo-
lis of the Emerald Isle to the lofty promontory, called in ancient Irish by
the appropriate name of Ben eider or the Eagle's Cliff. In those primi-
tive ages its secluded position — the extreme point of the coast — and
the sterile aspect of the rough hillsides affording little temptation to the
agriculturist, left it the retreat for religious men, bent on avoiding a
wordly life, and, if these lovers of retirement wished to attain a still
more retired habitation, the neighbouring Island of Lambay lay conve-
niently near. Between Lambay and the coast is Ireland's Eye, distant
about a mile — a mass of irregularly shaped rocks, with little soil on the
surface, and measuring about a mile and a half in circumference.
Here are the remains of an ancient church, founded by St. Nissan, in the
sixth century, and the venerated book of the Four Gospels, called the
" Garland of Howth/' was preserved here. Opposite, on the bold cliff,
overhanging: the sea, are the picturesque ruins of the Abbey, or College
of Howth, supposed to have been built by Sitric, a Danish Prince,
A.D. 1038. The ruins are very magnificent, enclosed in a quadrangular
area defended by a rampart — the embattled walls pleasingly contrasting
with the peaceful aspect of the time worn ruins. The church- yard is
shamefully allowed to become a perfect garden of weeds. I could
hardly make any way through the groves of nettles, and other weeds
which cover the entire space ; some effort is made to preserve the build-
ings, and a strong iron railing protects a curious old monument to one
of the Lords Howth, and his Lady, whose effigies, in their respective
habiliments, are wrought in the stone forming the lid. The date is
1430. Not far distant is Howth Castle. The entrance, close to
the church, is modern, yet tasteful j clusters of circular granite pillars
with conical capitals support massive iron gates, and open on a well
kept very exclusive demesne. The castle is a long, rather low, struc-
ture, flanked by square battlemented towers at the angles, and the
square hall door in the centre, surmounted by a pediment, is approached
by a lofty flight of steps. The hall is a very fine one, and the lover of
antiquities has a treat. Antique armour — the weapons of days when
war was the profession of most men — are here. A large two-handed
sword is pointed out as having belonged to the founder of the family,
HOWTEI CASTLE. 125
whose adventures by flood and field rival any recounted in romance or
fable. The name of Sir Armoricus Tristram deserves to be recorded.
He it was who formed the compact with his brother-in-law Sir John
De Courcy, in St. Mary's church at Rouen, that they should become
brothers in arms as well as brothers in love, and whatever spoil they should
take, in land or wealth, should be equally divided between them. On
the strength of this agreement, they sought achievements in various
parts of France and England, and turning their prow westward they
"steered their bark for Erin's Isle," and anchored off Howth. De
Courcy was confined to the ship by sickness, and the command devolv-
ing on Sir Armoricus, he ordered a landing. The Irish assembled in
haste, but not arriving in time to prevent the invaders reaching the shore,
attacked them at the bridge of Evora, which crosses a mountain stream
on the north side of Howth. This conflict was maintained on both
sides with the desperate valour of men preferring to die than yield.
Seven sons of Sir Armoricus were slain, together with many of his
kindred, but the Irish were routed. In clearing out the foundation of
a church built on the spot some years since, a quantity of bones were
discovered, together with an antique anvil, with bridle, bits, and other
accoutrements. This might hare been the armourer's anvil used in
closing up the rivets preparatory to the engagement. The result of the
victory was to give the lands and castle of Howth to the gallant Sir
Armoricus, as his share of the conquest. The account of his death is
a strong proof of his valour. While engaged with some of his knights
in making an incursion into Connaught, they were surprised and sur-
rounded by a superior force — yet a chance of escape existed — the
knights suggested to avail themselves of the swiftness of their steeds
and save themselves by flight, but Sir Armoricus disdained life on such
terms. He dismounted from his gallant charger, drew his sword, and
kissing the cross forming the guard, thrust it into his horse's side. His
example was followed by all the knights except two, who acted as
videttes, and they alone returned to tell the sad tale that the brave
Sir Armoricus, and his companions, died as became Norman knights, with
their faces to the foeman. The family name was changed from
Tristram to St. Lawrence on the following occasion. One of the lords of
the race commanded an army about to engage in battle against the Danes
on St. Lawrence's Day. He made a vow to the Saint that if victorious
he would assume the name of St. Lawrence, and entail it on his
posterity. The Danes fled and the name retained.
A long flight of steps leads from the hall to a chamber, in which is a pic-
ture representing a female figure mounted on a white horse, in the act of
receiving a child from a peasant. This is supposed to refer to the tradition
of the celebrated Granu Uile, or Grace O'Malley, who, returning from the
Court of Queen Elizabeth, landed at Howth, and proceeded to the castle,
but found the gates shut, the family having gone to dinner. Enraged
at this utter want of Irish hospitality, the indignant chieftainess proceeded
to the shore, where the young lord was at nurse, hurried with him on board,
and sailed to Connaught where her castle stood. An ample apology
being made and promise of future hospitality to all such guests, l the
child was restored, on the express stipulation that the gates should be
always thrown open when the family went to dinner. There is a bed
shown in which King William III slept. In the saloon is a full length
of that curious combination of good and evil — Dean Swift, with the
126 HOWTH CASTLE.
draper's letters in his hand. The notorious Wood is crouching beside
him, and his half-pence are scattered about. In a most entertaining and
ably written work, "The Homes and Haunts of the Poets," Mr. Howitt
has taken some pains to prove that Mr. Wood was not at all to blame,
and much more " sinned against than sinning."
The antiquity of this family in Ireland may be judged from the fore-
going remarks. The title of Baron was conferred so far back as
1177, a few years after the arrival of the English. In 1^67 the
Barony was merged in the title of Viscount St. Lawrence, then
created Earl of Howth. The alliances and offices filled by various
members of this noble house would occupy a large space j the fifteenth
Baron was Lord Chancellor of Ireland, A.D. 1483 ; he married the
second daughter of the Duke of Somerset, which entitles Lord Howth
to claim descent from the renowned English Monarch King Edward III.
The present peer is the 29th in succession from the founder of the family,
Sir Armoricus Tristram. The Earl married, in 1826, Lady Emily de
Burgh, second daughter of the late Earl of Clanricarde, and has one son
and four daughters : the beautiful and amiable Countess died in 1842, to
the universal regret of every one who had the honour of her acquaint-
ance. His eldest son, the Viscount St. Lawrence, is a Lieutenant in
the 7th Hussars, and is at present on the Staff of his Excellency the
Earl of Clarendon, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.
p, co. Corfe,
THE SEAT OF HENRY SMYTH, ESQ. J. P.
" Swift Anniduff, which of the Englishman
Is called Blackwater,"
WASHES the trunks of tall trees that fringe the lawns of Renny, and the
Irish Rhine, as this noble river has been justly termed, still murmurs past
a magnificent oak, under the shade of whose far stretching boughs the
Poet of the Age, Edmund Spencer, is said to have composed the Faerie
Queene. And to this monarch of the wood comes many an humble
bard, desirous to pay the tribute of his homage ; full of veneration for
the genius which nourished beneath its branches. What glorious aspi-
rations were poured forth on the spot ? How many splendid stanzas,
rich in wondrous imagery, and brilliant thoughts, found a voice and
birth under this tree ! It is a meet spot for a poet to compose in. The
banks here are high and precipitous, and clothed in wood, and their soli-
tude would lead you to suppose the busy world shut out, and this the
happy valley of Rasselas. The fame of this tree is a great attraction to
Renny, and Spencer's Oak is regarded with becoming honour. Though
there is no doubt that Renny formed a portion of the poet's estate in this
county, his usual residence was several miles distant at Kilcolman Castle ;
and, it was not until after his death, which was hastened by the ruin of
his fortune attending the destruction of Kilcolman by the insurgents in
1597, that his family occupied Renny prominently. This property was
a portion of the great Desmond estate, from which Edmund Spencer
obtained a grant of 3028 acres. And close by the Mansion-house are
the venerable remains of a castle, boldly situated on the verge of a mag-
nificent ledge of rocks. This castle is considered to have belonged to
RUNNY. 127
the Geraldines. The dwelling of the Spencers lay in the rear of the
present house, which is not of any antiquity, and some of the rooms have
been turned to account. In one, now used as a dairy, there is a tragical
circumstance related as having occurred to a descendant of Spencer's.
He had contracted an intimacy with his housekeeper, which she expected
would cause him to marry her — great was her anger to learn that he was
on the eve of consigning her to infamy, by marrying another. She resolved
on vengeance, and, while in the act of shaving him, as was the habit of
this Lothario, she cut his throat. This Mr. O'Flanagan correctly states
in his Guide to the Blackwater to have occurred in the small antique
dwelling at Renny j but he does not, — as Mr. Howitt in the " Homes and
Haunts of British Poets," attributes to him — thereby mean the present
mansion, which, as the latter writer justly observes, is a good modern
mansion.
Renny-House, formerly the property of the Reverend C. Wallis, who
evidently aspired to high dignities in the church, as the stone mitres on
the gate piers attest, is a quiet respectable country seat. The rooms are
well proportioned, and commodious, and afford several exquisite views.
One, from the large drawing room, is a perfect picture. It takes in a
shelving steep bank well wooded, and overlooking a spacious dell, with
the bright mirror-like river flowing through fair meadowy niches.
This charming landscape presents a constant variety, every change of
sky causing a change of aspect. Now the sun is gleaming on hill and
tree, and wave, and all is brilliant and gay. A cloud dulls the heavens,
and darkness comes on, and black shadows steal out like robbers from
gloomy caves, and mists hang on the hill tops. A little distance from
the house the path leads round an angle of wood, and majestic rocks
stands before us. Here all is sublime and beautiful, not ideal, such as
Burke wrote on, but real and substantial. These giant rocks rise up bold
and frowning, a rugged feature in the quiet scene. Some natural caverns
seem scooped in their sides, and water lies at the base. These rocks are
surmounted by the buildings, and the ancient walls of the Fitz-Gerald
Castle, still crown the top. Fine pasture lands stretch from the base, and
lowing herds of cattle, and flocks of fleecy sheep, and sportive lambs,
brouse to their full content. Some slender greyhounds chasing each
other in rapid circles gave animation to the scene. We gazed, and gra-
tified our curiosity by a minute survey of the dwelling with its pretty
garden and ruined castle, the spreading lawn and its fine clumps of trees
shading the flocks and herds, the massive rocks forming the solid foun-
dation for the mansion, the wooded slopes descending the meadows, the
river flowing hurriedly past, and Spencer's oak with its hallowed associa-
tion of poetry and history, until in the words of Wilson —
Thus gently blended many a human thought,
With those that peace and solitude supplied ;
Till in our hearts the musing kindness wrought
With gradual influence like a flowing tide,
And for the lovely sound of human voice we sighed.
VOL. IV. NO. XVI.
128
ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT.
THERE are few subjects connected with the history of Ireland, which
furnish more interesting matter for inquiry than the laws that regu-
late the descent of the ancient baronies of that kingdom, many of which
still remain in the possession of the male heirs of the original grantee,
and are enjoyed by them, while the remainder have become extinct, dor-
mant or in abeyance.
This subject has been ably treated by several genealogical writers,*
more especially by Mr. Lynch, who in his "Feudal Dignities of Ireland,"
and " Case of Prescriptive Baronies/' has with great labour and research
nearly, if not altogether, determined that none of those ancient baro-
nies could be inherited by heirs female.
Yet, however great diversity of opinion still exists on this subject,
many claims have within the last few years been put forward by the
representatives of female lines, and several of the most eminent counsel
of the Irish bar, some of whom now sit on the bench of that kingdom,
have given decided and strong opinions in favour of such claims.
The importance of this subject will be known from the fact, that if
such claims be admitted, the effect will be to place, in all probability,
nearly fifty different families in the place and precedence of the ancient
baronies of Ireland, which they represent through female heirs, and con-
sequently to declare that those peers, who now hold baronies as male
heirs of the first grantees, have been wrongfully created peers to the ex-
clusion of female heirs, and enjoy the place and precedence of such
original baronies through mistake.
In the following pages we propose taking a review of the subject, and
to shew the descent of the original baronies of Ireland, adding the ar-
guments which have been put forward on both sides of the question, as
to the singular difference^ which exists between the rules which regulate
the descent of such baronies in England, and the rules which regulate
those of Ireland, or at least which custom has all but established in the
latter kingdom.
It is hardly necessary to remark, that in the former kingdom the
early baronies, created by writ of summons, have invariably descended
to the female heir, or if coheirs, it has gone into abeyance amongst them,
and lain dormant until such time as the crown has been pleased to ter-
minate the abeyance in favour of some one of the coheirs or their repre-
sentatives, and thus many of these baronies have been inherited, (as in
the case of the baronies of de Ros, le de Spencer, &c.f) by many different
families passing in and out, through heirs and coheirs.
* Cruise, on Dignities ; Sir John Davis' Reports, Case of County Palatine ; Coke's
Institutes, County Palatine of Chester.
f De Ros has passed by a coheir to the Manners, Earls of Rutland, from them to
the Cecils, Earls of Exeter, back to the Manners, then to the Villiers, Dukes of Buck-
ingham, then to the sisters and heirs of Manners, 6th Earl of Rutland, when the
I
ON IRISH BARONIKS BY WRIT. 129
While, on the other hand, in Ireland, baronies created by the same form
of writ, by the same king, have in every instance, except one (which
shall be mentioned hereafter,) gone to the heirs male of the original
grantee, passing over in all but the one instance the claims of heirs female,
it is the singular anomaly we would here discuss, endeavouring to place
before the reader the different arguments which have been adduced in
favour of each rule of descent by those who have examined and treated
on the points involved in the question.
It cannot be doubted, that, after the conquest of Ireland by Henry II.
King of England, all the early feudal dignities and titles introduced
into the former kingdom were founded on the same laws, customs and
usages, as those which regulated the honours then existing in England ;
and it is but reasonable to suppose that those who introduced them
into Ireland would found them on the same principles as regulated those
of the kingdom whence they came, and by which many of them held
dignities there themselves.
Sir Hugh de Lacy received as a reward for his valour the entire
county of Meath, which was erected into a palatine honour for him ;
this enabled him to grant, as lord of that palatine, rights and liberties
which constituted the grantee a baron of such honour. It is not in-
tended hereto enter into any discussion as to the nature and constitution of
these baronies, which were without doubt modelled on the baronies of the
palatines of England, and gave to the possessor all the rights and privileges
and powers which belonged to what was then called a barony. There
is however conclusive evidence that the baronies created of the palatine
of Meath passed in several different instances to heirs female, and that
their descendants were thence denominated.*
The lordship of Meath itself was divided between the two daughters
and coheirs of Gilbert de Lacy, grandson of Hugh de Lacy, the first
lord, the elder of whom, Maud, having married Geoffrey de Geneville,
conveyed to him the lordship of Trim, and a moiety of Meath, and Mar-
gery, the youngest coheir, conveyed to her husband, the Lord John de
Verdon, the remaining moiety. There is also equally satisfactory evi-
dence as to the descent of the province of Leinster, the great heritage of
the De Clares, which came to the Marshals, by marriage with Isabel de
Clare, the heiress of Richard Strongbow, and which great inheritance
was finally divided amongst her daughters and coheirs on the decease
abeyance was terminated in favour of Charlotte Walsingham, wife of Lord Henry Fitz-
gerald, in whose descendants it now remains.
The barony of Le de Spencer, passed by a female line to the Beauchamps, Earls of
Worcester, thence to the Nevilles, thence to the Fanes, Earls of Westmoreland, then
to the Dashwoods, to the Pauls, and now exists in the Stapyltons.
* Colmolyn passed from the Fitz Leons, to the Genevilles, and Simon de Geneville
was denominated Lord Colmolyn, and thence to the Cusacks, the death of one of whom
is entered on the Roll of the Mortelege of Kells. " Dom. John La Culmolyn, 1370.
Delvin, held by the Nugents, went to the Fitz Johns, and back again to the Nugems,
through female heirs. Killcen went from the Cusacks to the Tuites, back again to
the Cusacks, and then to the Plunkets. These two latter baronies having been since
that date in the Nugent and PJunket families, it has become a question how far the
present peerages were inherited by the present Lords of Delvin and Killeen, or whether
they are new creations wrongly placed in the precedence of the old baronies, which is
the point we are now treating of, and the descent of which will be more fully ex-
plained hereafter.
L 2
130 ON IUISH BARONIES BY WRIT.
of their brothers, without issue, a portion of which was inherited by the
Fitzgeralds, and constituted the barony of Ophaley or Offtdey, still held
by their descendants.
Thus then it appears that the ancient feudal baronies of Ireland fol-
lowed the same rules of descent as similar honours in England, for at
least the first two centuries after the conquest of that kingdom ; when
therefore we find at a later period the descendants of those very persons,
who themselves inherited from heirs female, summoned by the title of the
barony thus inherited, in the usual form of a writ of summons, and
afterwards this barony not passing in the natural course of descent to
heirs female, but to the inheritor of the estate as heirs male, we can
only come to the conclusion, that such barony was either one of tenure,
or that the heirs female were wrongly disposessed, or that some remarkable
alteration occurred at a later period which altered the usual course of
descent in Ireland, making it different from that of England. In exa-
mining these three points, and describing the singular anomaly which
exists, it will be necessary first therefore to trace the origin of a writ of
summons to parliament in Ireland.
To the parliament held in 1295, only twenty-nine persons were sum-
moned ; while to that held in 1309 at Kilkenny, eighty-seven were sum-
moned, a very large increase in so few years ; and the only account of
which we have is given by Spenser, in his view of Ireland, who also
alludes to the introduction of peerages by writ. The passage alluded is
as follows :
"Eudoxius. — You say well, for by means of freeholders their number
hereby will be greatly augmented ; but how shall it pass in the higher
house, which still must consist of all Irish ?"
" Ireeneus. — Marry that also may be redressed by ensamples of that
which I have heard was done in like case by King Edward the Third,
(second) as I remember, who being greatly bearded and crossed by the
Lords of the Clergy, they being then by reason of the Lord Abbots and
others too many, and too strong for him, so that he could not for their
frowardness order and reform things as he desired, was advised to direct
out his writs to certaine gentlemen of the best ability and trust, entitling
them barons in the next parliament, by which means he had so many
barons in his parliament as were able to weigh down the clergy and
.\ •/»•«_. D O*'
their friends.
All statutes which were enacted in England, were immediately certified
in Ireland, and became law there; and there is no doubt that at a very
early period after the settlement of the constitution of England and the di-
vision of the Great Council of the nation into two houses, the same change
was made in Ireland, and, as would appear from the above extract, the ba-
rons were summoned in the same manner as in England. The following
writ to the celebrated parliament of Kilkenny in 1309, will shew
the form used. It is also to be remarked that those writs were in many
instances directed to the different barons, not by the names of their
estates, but by their surnames, and those barons who did not attend
were fined for non-attendance according to the usual custom, thus
showing that in every particular the custom which regulated the parlia-
mentary assemblies of England prevailed in Ireland, each holder of cer-
tain lands being liable to be summoned to the council of the king.
"Rex.— A. B. Salutem.— Sciatis super quibusdam arduis negotiis
ON IRISH BARONIKS BY WRIT. 131
noset statum terre nostri contingentihus vobiscum hahere. Volumus
tractatum specialem vobis mandamus quod scitis in propria persona, ves-
tra apud Kilkeniam, die lune in octavis purificationis beato Marie, nd trac-
tandum et parliamentandum cum justicinrio nostro. Hibernie et aliis
de concilio (nostro) et cum ceteris proceribus et magnetibus terre nostre
super eisdem negotiis. Et Hoc nullatentis omittatis in fide que nobis
tenemini. Et habeas ibi hoc breve. Teste Johanne Wogan, Justic, etc.,
apud Dublin viii. die Januarii, Anno Regni nostri tertio."*
It will not be necessary here to enter into the question, of whether
the baronies followed the course of tenure ? The question we consider is,
whether the exclusion of female heirs was wrongful, or whether the male
heirs were justly placed in place and precedence of the original summons
to parliament? If the latter be correct, it must wholly rest on the ground
that the laws of Ireland are different from those of England, and that
the common law of the former differs from that of the latter, and thus
a different derivation is given to the descent of the peerage of that
country.
It will be well, before entering further into the question, to deduce the
descent of two or three of those original baronies, showing where and how
the heirs female have been excluded; and the heirs male placed and
summoned in the original place and precedence of the barony.
The most remarkable descents are to be found in the baronies of
Slane ; held by the Flemmings.
Howth j by the St. Lawrences.
Gormanstoun ; by the Prestons.
Killeen ; by the Plunkets.
Kinsale ; by the Courcys.
Ophaley ; by the Fitzgeralds.
Athenry j by the Berminghams.
Delvin j by the Nugents.
Dunsany ; by the Plunkets.
Le Poer ; by the Poers.
The last barony in the above list is the exception before allwled to as
furnishing the only instance of a barony of Ireland being inherited ac-
cording to the laws of England, and given to a female heir.
Nicholas Le Poer was summoned to parliament as a baron in Novem-
ber 1375, by the name and title of Baron Le Poer ; this barony was thus
created by writ, which is still preserved in the Record office of Ireland.
From him the barony descended uninterruptedly in the male line to
Richard Le Poer, who was in 1673, created Viscount Decies and Earl of
Tyrone.
James Le Poer became third Earl on the decease of his brother John
second Earl. He left at his death in 1704, an only daughter and heiress
Catherine Le Poer, who claimed as of right the ancient barony created
by writ, and her claim having been submitted to the Irish House of Lords,
was admitted by their lordships, and the ancient barony is now enjoyed
by her descendant, the present Marquess of Waterford, who is Baron
Le Poer, with the original place and precedence of the original barony
created 23rd November, 1375.
Here then we have a solemn decision of the House of Peers, to the
* Sir John Wogan was at this date Lord Justice of Ireland Patt. Roll. Hib. 1093.
132 ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT,
effect that the peerage law of Ireland is the same as that of England.
Yet notwithstanding this decision the question is still apparently unde-
termined, no other decision having been come to by the House of Lords.
Although several cases have of late years been submitted to it by claimants
through heirs female, that such is also the opinion of the most eminent
barristers of Ireland, will be seen from the following answers to queries
submitted to them, and which may be shortly stated in substance as
follows.
"The common law of Ireland as contradistinguished from the statute
law, was and is exactly the same as the common law of England, as
well touching the descent of peerages as all other subjects ; it is not
possible to maintain that any peerage Irish or English can, except by
Act of Parliament, be regulated by a course of descent opposed to the
course prescribed by the common law of both countries. A peerage
created by letters patent will follow the course of descent presented in
that patent. A peerage by writ will descend to the heirs lineal, male and
female, of the person first entitled. A barony by tenure or as it is some-
times called by prescription, will follow the descent of the tenure when such
exists j but this case may be put out of view as a species of dignity now
quite out of use, save in afew special cases, and quite inapplicable to thepre-
sent question. No custom or prescription can prove the control, or affect
the common law course of descent of a peerage. The persons summoned
to the parliament of Kilkenny in the year 1309, by writ of summons, be-
came in consequence of such writs barons, and these baronies were inhe-
ritable by heirs male and female.
If the above opinion is correct, all those baronies which were created
by the writs of summons in 1309, must, if not extinct, be in abeyance.
None of the baronies, which now exist in the male heirs of the
present day as representatives of their ancestors who were summoned to
that parliament, have descended without the intervention of female heirs
and coheirs. In deducing the descent of the several baronies which
still exist or have been claimed, we will commence with the barony of
Slane, which perhaps furnishes as numerous instances as any other of the
intervention of coheirs, and the peerage passing over them, reverting to
the heirs male. This claim has been several times before the House of
Lords, a petition having been presented by Mr. Bryan, who claims to be,
and is, without doubt, the representative of one of the coheirs of the last
baron of Slane ; a claim has likewise been made by Mr. James Fleming
as heir male. The House of Lords decided against the claim of Mr.
Bryan in 1835.
Baldwin le Fleming, lord of the manor of Slane, in the lordship of
Meath, was one of the palatine barons of that lordship. He was sum-
moned to the parliament of Kilkenny by writ, in 1309, not by the title
of Slane, but as Lord le Fleming. From him descended,
Christopher Fleming, fifth Lord le Fleming. He sat in parliament 29th
Henry VI, but died without issue, when his sisters became his coheirs,
namely :
Anne Fleming, the wife of Walter Dillon, Esq.
Annia Fleming, the wife of John Bellew.
Here then we had the first intervention of coheirs in the Slane peerage,
and the first interruption to the lineal male-descent of that peerage on the
death of Christopher, the fifth lord. David Fleming, son of the fourth
ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT. 133
Lord le Fleming, inherited the manor of Slane (which was held in fee
tail of the heirs of Theobobald de Verdon, as of the manor of Duleek,
having come to that family, through one of the heirs of the Lacy's,) as
heir male to his nephew Christopher. He was summoned to parliament
as Lord le Fleming with the precedence of the old barony, and sat in
parliament 1462. An act of parliament having passed to settle his pre-
cedence, he died in 1463, and on his death his son Thomas became his
heir, but he dying young, his three sisters became his coheirs — while
the manor of {Slane passed to his distant heir at law. — Pipe Roll.
James Fleming, Knt., son and heir of William Fleming, of New-
castle, descended from the third Lord le Fleming, and his wife, Elizabeth
Preston, which James, succeeding to the manor of Slane, was summoned
to parliament 12th Edward IV, he signed a representation to Richard
III from the Irish parliament, as James Fleming, Baron of Slane.
His grandson, James Fleming, third Lord Slane, sat in parliament
during the reign of Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth, but on his death
without issue, the manor of Slane went to the heir male, and his
sisters became his coheirs.
Catherine Fleming, the wife of Sir Christopher Barnwell, of Cricks
town ; and Elenor.
Thomas Fleming, of Stephens town, became heir male on the death
of his kinsman, and succeeded to the estates -, he was summoned to
parliament as Barun Slane, 1585, and sat in 1587. He died, leaving
issue two daughters his coheirs : Catherine, the wife of Pierce Butler of
Old Abbey, co. Kilkenny ; and Ellenor, who married William Flem-
ing of Depatrick, who became heir male, and inherited the ancient
manor of Slane. From him it passed to his son Christopher, who was
summoned and sat in parliament 1613-15. The deceased Christopher
became last Baron of Slane, and on his death in 1728 his sisters
became his coheirs : Mary, wife of Richard Fleming, of Stahalmock ;
and Alice, wife of Sir George Byrne, Bart. The former of whom is
represented by the Lord Dunsany, and the latter by George Bryan,
Esq., who claimed without success the barony in 1835.
134
.
THE LANDS OF ENGLAND, AND THEIR PRO
PRIETORS SINCE THE CONQUEST.
, to.
.... Rokeby's turrets high
Were northward in the dawning seen
To rear them o'er the thicket green.
THE ancient manor of Rokeby is classic ground. The poetic genius of
Scott has thrown a halo of imperishable celebrity around its romantic
beauties, and imparted a national interest to its history. With extreme
accuracy of observation and felicity of expression the bard describes the
passage through the glen : —
"A stern and lone, yet lovely road,
As e'er the foot of minstrel trode.'*
And few can contemplate " Egliston's grey ruins," or " Rokeby's turrets
high," without feeling that the charm of poetry hangs over them. At the
period of the Conquest, all the territory abutting on the Tees, at its southern
border, was granted to Alan, Earl of Rretagne, and formed his English
Earldom of Richmond. These broad lands were partitioned among the
junior members of his family and his followers; and in the distribution
Rokeby became part of the possessions of the Fitzalans, a northern baronial
house, whose chief seat was at Bedale. But their interest at Rokeby was
scarcely more than nominal, for beneath them was a subinfeudation in
favour of a family, which, residing on the lands of Rokeby, was usually de-
scribed as " de Rokeby," and eventually assumed that name as a personal
appellation, tradition asserting that its ancestors had been there seated
in Saxon times. The first honourable occurrence of the Rokebys in
public affairs, is in the reign of Edward III., when Thomas de Rokeby ren-
dered the name one of historic distinction. " In the first year of Edward III.,"
says Froissart, " the Scots, under the command of the Earl of Moray, and
Sir James Douglas, ravaged the country as far as Newcastle ; Edward was
in those parts with a more powerful army, and an engagement was expected
and wished for, when the Scotch army suddenly disappeared, and no infor-
mation could be gained respecting the route they had taken. The young
king caused it to be proclaimed throughout the host, that whoever should
bring certain intelligence where the Scotch army was should have one
hundred pounds a year in land, and be made a knight by the king himself :
immediately fifteen or sixteen knights and esquires passed the river with
much danger, ascended the mountains, and then separated, each taking a
different route. On the the fourth day, Rokeby, who was one of them, gave
the king exact information where the Scots lay." " This," says Hunter,
the learned historian of South Yorkshire, " is not a legendary story, in-
vented by some family annalist, or doating chronicler of public affairs, the
veracity of the narrative being here supported by the most authentic records
of the realm ; and it is a gratifying fact that we are so often enabled to
prove circumstances in our old chronicles, which, on a first view, have an
ROKEBY. 136
air of romance and fable, by fiscal documents, wherein, least of all, any-
thing imaginary is to be found." In the Patent Rolls, 1 Edward III., m.
7, is a grant to Thomas de Rokeby, of £100, to be taken annually from the
Exchequer till £100 lands shall be provided for him, in which the service
is described nearly as it is related by Froissart ; and in the same rolls, 5
Edward III., m. 7, is a grant to him in fee of the manor of Pawlinesgray,
in Kent, with lands in the north which had lately belonged to Michael
and Andrew de Harcle, in release of his £100 annuity from the Ex-
chequer. Sir Thomas Rokeby subsequently held commands against the
Scots, was twice High Sheriff of Yorkshire, and became (12 and 13 Ed-
ward III.) Governor of the Castles of Berwick, Edinburgh, and Stirling.
In 1346, he pre-eminently distinguished himself at the battle of Neville's
Cross, and was one of the few magnates present at that engagement to whom
the letter of thanks was addressed, of which a copy is to be found in the
Fcedera. In 1 349, he went to Ireland as Lord Justice, and held that ap~
pointment until 1355, when Maurice Fitz Thomas, Earl of Desmond, suc-
ceeded him. The administration of Sir Thomas Rokeby in Ireland, is
famous for the attempt he made to abolish the custom of coigne and livery, a
species of arbitrary purveyance for the persons in authority there ; and a
tradition has been handed down, attested by Holinshed, that being once
censured for using wooden dishes and cups, as not befitting his degree,
Sir Thomas replied, that he would rather drink out of such cups, and pay
gold and silver, than drink out of gold and silver and make wooden pay-
ments. In the latter transaction of his life, Sir Thomas appears with the
addition " The Uncle" to his name, and another Sir Thomas Rokeby occurs,
styled " the Nephew.'* He seems to have participated in the triumph of
Neville's Cross, and to have accompanied the elder Rokeby to Ireland. A
third Sir Thomas Rokeby was High Sheriff of Yorkshire, 8 Henry IV., and
during his year of office, the Earl of Northumberland made his last attempt
to dethrone King Henry; Sir Thomas collecting the posse comitatus, met
the Earl at Bramham Moore, and a conflict ensued, in which Northumber-
land and the Lord Bardolph were slain. The next Rokeby s distinguished
in state affairs were WILLIAM ROKEBY, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, arid
Archbishop of Dublin, who died in 1521, and Sir Richard Rokeby, his
younger brother, Comptroller to Cardinal Wolsey. The archbishop was
interred in a sepulchral chapel built by himself at Sandal Parva, in York-
shire, and this tomb still remains. While this eminent churchman was run-
ning the race of high preferment, the eldest branch of the family remained
quietly on the hereditary patrimony of Rokeby and Mortham. In the reign
of Henry VII. the head of the house was another Sir THOMAS ROKEBY,
who had three sons ; the two younger were the ancestors of families of the
name, resident at Marske and Staningford.
Ralph Rokeby, Esq., the eldest son, who succeeded to Rokeby and Mor-
thanr, was living in the reigns of Henry VII. and Henry VIII. The era
of the "jargon" of "the Felon Sow," which may be seen in the notes to
the poem of Rokeby, refers to the time of this Ralph. Sir Walter Scott
deems " the Hunting of the Felon Sow of Rokeby by the Friars of Richmond,"
one of the very best of the mock romances of the ancient minstrels, and
much commends its comic humour. " Ralph Rokeby, who (for the jest's
sake apparently) bestowed the untractable animal on the convent of Rich-
mond, seems," says the poet, "to have flourished in the time of Henry VII.,
which, since we know not the date of Friar Theobald's wardenship, to
which the ballad refers us, may indicate that of the composition itself.
136 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.
Mortham is mentioned as being the facetious Baron's place of residence ;
and the Mistress Rokeby of the romance, who so charitably refreshed the
sow, after she had discomfited Friar Middleton and his auxiliaries, was
daughter and coheir of Danby of Yafforth." By this -lady, Ralph Rokeby
had four sons, THOMAS, his heir j John, D.C.L. a learned civilian; Richard,
a soldier, under Lord Scrope of Boltori, whose standard he is said to have
borne at FJodden ; and Ralph of Skiers, an eminent lawyer, raised to the
coif 6 Edward VI. The eldest son, THOMAS ROKEBY, Esq. of Mortham,
described " as a plain man as might be, whose words came always from his
heart, without faining, a trusty friend, a forward gentleman in the field, and
a great housekeeper," was father, by his wife, a daughter of Robert Consta-
ble of Cliff, in Yorkshire, of four sons : CHRISTOPHER, his heir; Ralph,
one of the Masters of Requests to Queen Elizabeth ; Thomas, ancestor of
the Rokebys of Skiers, extinct baronets, and of the Rokebys of Arthing-
worth, co. Northampton, now represented by the Rev. HENRY RALPH
ROKEBY; and Anthony. Of these sons, the eldest, CHRISTOPHER
ROKEBY, Esq., married Margaret, daughter of Sir Roger Lascelles of
Brackenburgh, and had a son and successor, JOHN ROKEBY, Esq. of Mortham,
who appears, by the visitation of Yorkshire, 1584, to have been then in pri-
son in the Fleet, " religionis causa." He wedded a daughter of the ancient
family of Thweng, and was succeeded by his son, who bore the favourite
family name of THOMAS, and was knighted. Of his descendants little more
than their names are recorded. It would, otherwise, have been gratifying
to have known something of the personal habits and actions of those in
whose time the chief line of the ancient family of Rokeby fell to decay, and
especially of Sir Thomas Rokeby himself, whose necessities must have been
great (it may be presumed) when he disposed of the domain at ROKEBY, in
1610. The purchaser was WILLIAM ROBINSON. Esq., an opulent merchant
of the city of London, who paid a composition fine for declining the honour
of knighthood, at the coronation of Charles I. His son and heir apparent,
Thomas Robinson, Esq. of Gray's Inn, Barrister- at- Law, exchanged the
long robe for the broad sword, at the breaking out of the civil war, and was
slain near Leeds, when a colonel in the service of the parliament. By
Frances, his wife, daughter of Leonard Smelt, Esq., he left two sons :
WILLIAM, his heir ; and Leonard, (Sir) Chamberlain of the city of London,
ancestor of the Robinsons, of Edgely, co. York. The elder, WILLIAM ROBIN-
SON, Esq., succeeded to the lovely demesne of Rokeby, at the decease of hi?
grandfather, and resided there in high repute, so esteemed for his long ser-
vices on the magisterial bench as to be styled, par excellence, " the justice."
He lived to a great age, anddied universally lamented. A monumental stone,
with an elegant inscription in Rokeby church, marks the spot where he lies
interred. His grandson Sir THOMAS ROBINSON, Bart, who possessed conside-
rable architectural ta&te, rebuilt the mansion of Rokeby, erected a mausoleum,
and enclosed the park, which he adorned with extensive plantations. In
commemoration of these improvements, two marble tables, fixed in the two
stone piers, were placed at each side of the entrance into the park from
Greta Bridge.
That on the right with the following inscription : —
Hos
Quos intus cernes,
Omnigenarum fere arborum sylvestrium
Ordines,
Miliarii spacio usque ad clomura de Rookby,
Flexibus quasi serpentinis extensos,
ROKEBY. 137
Jam florentes ;
Et (faxit Deus) seris nepotibus umbram fractures
Anno Dom. 1730, consevit
Thomas Robinson, Baronettus
Et haec,
Ne forte poster! nescerent,
Marmori incidenda commisit
Anno 1737.
That on the left, with the following lines : —
Murum hunc
Qui inclusum vivarium circundat,
A latere fluminis Gretae occidental! porrectum
Anno Dom. 1723 inchoavit
Annoque 1730, absolvit
Thomas Robinson
Suae gentis
(A Scoti olim montanis oriundse
Inde ad Kendall, in Westmoria, migrantis
E t hie demum considentis)
Baronettus primus
Sextusquo hujusce domus de Rookby
Dominus.
Sir Thomas married twice, but died s.p. in 1777, when the baronetcy
and estates devolved on his brother William, at whose decease unm. in 1785,
they passed to his brother the Most Rev. Richard Robinson, Archbishop of
Armagh and Lord Almoner, a prelate of great influence and personal consi-
deration, who, on being elevated to the peerage in 1777, had assumed his
title from the lands of which we are now treating. His Grace died unm. 1794,
when the Barony of Rokeby devolved, by a special limitation in the patent,
on his kinsman Matthew Robinson, Esq. of Edgeley, whose grand nephew
Henry is the present Lord Rokeby. The estate, which gave name to the
title, was eventually purchased from the Robinsons by the father of the late
JOHN B. S. MORRITT, Esq. the friend and correspondent of Sir Walter
Scott ; and is now held by Mr. Morritt's son and successor.
Rokeby and Mortham, which formed the patrimony of the Rokeby's,
were situated, the former, on the left bank of Greta, the latter on the right,
about half-a-mile nearer to the junction with the Tees. The river runs with
very great rapidity over a bed of solid rock, broken 'by many shelving des-
cents, down which the stream dashes with great noise and impetuosity, vin-
dicating its etymology, which has been derived from the Gothic " Gridan,"
"to clamour." The banks partake of the same wild and romantic character,
being chiefly lofty cliffs of limestone rock, whose grey colour contrasts ad-
mirably with the various trees and shrubs which find root among their cre-
vices, as well as with the hue of the ivy, which clings round them in profu-
sion, and hangs down from their projections in long sweeping tendrils. At
other points the rocks give place to precipitous banks of earth, bearing large
trees intermixed with cope wood. In one spot the dell, which is everywhere
very narrow, widens for a space to leave room for a dark grove of yew trees,
intermixed here and there with aged pines of uncommon size. Directly op-
posite to this sombre thicket, the cliff's on the other side of the Greta are
tall, white and fringed with all kinds of deciduous shrubs. The whole
scenery of this spot is so much adapted to the ideas of superstition, that it
has acquired the name of Blockula, from the place where the Swedish
witches were supposed to hold their sabbath. The dell, however, has super-
stitions of its own growth, for it is supposed to be haunted by a female
133 THK LANDS OF ENGLAND.
spectre, called the Dobie of Mortham. The cause assigned for her appear-
ance is a lady's having been whilom murdered in the wood, in evidence
of which her blood is shewn upon the stairs of the old tower at Mortham ;
but whether she was slain by a jealous husband, or by savage banditti, or
by an uncle who coveted her estate, or by a rejected lover, are points upon
which the traditions of Rokeby do not enable us to decide.
The castle of Mortham which Leland terms " Mr. Rokeby's Place, in
ripa citer, scant a quarter of a mile from Greta Bridge, and not a quarter of
a mile beneath the trees," is a picturesque tower, surrounded by buildings of
different ages, now converted into a farm house and offices. The battle-
ments of the tower itself are singularly elegant, the architect having broken
them at regular intervals into different heights : while those at the corners
of the tower project into octangular turrets. They are also from space to
space, covered with stones laid across them, as in modern embrasures, the
whole forming an uncommon and beautiful effect. The surrounding build-
ings are of less happy form, being pointed into high and steep roofs. A wall
with embrasures, encloses the southern front, where a low portal arch affords
an entry to what was the Castle court. At some distance is most happily
placed, between the stems of two magnificent elms, —
a massive monument,
Carved o'er in ancient Gothic wise,
With many a scutcheon and device.
It is said to have been brought from the ruins of Eglistone Priory, and
from the armoury with which it is richly carved, appears to have been a tomb
of the Fitz- Hughs.
The situation of Mortham, is eminently beautiful, occupying a high bank,
at the bottom of which the Greta winds out of the dark, narrow and roman-
tic dell, and flows onward through a more open valley to meet the Tees,
about a quarter of a mile from the castle. Mortham is surrounded by old
trees, happily and widely grouped with Mr. Morritt's plantations.
Sir Walter Scott makes the following pleasing allusion to the romantic
scenery of Mortham.
* * * * # #
" And when he issued from the wood,
Before the gate of Mortham stood.
'Twas a fair scene ! the sunbeam lay
On battled tower and portal gray :
And from the grassy slope he sees
The Greta flow to meet the Tees ;
Where, issuing from her darksome bed,
She caught the morning's eastern red,
And through the softening vale below
Roll'd her bright waves, in rosy glow,
All blushing to her bridal bed,
Like some shy maid in convent bred ;
While linnet, lark and blackbird gay
Sing forth her nuptial roundelay." *
OTrtttle, co. <£S3t]r.
AMONG the remaining examples of the customs of our forefathers there are
perhaps none which are more interesting, or under the so called legal refor-
mations, more rapidly disappearing than the feudal tenures, curious customs
and arbitrary jurisdiction by which lands were held, either of the crown, or
WHITTLE. 1 39
of the great and powerful barons, each of whom ruled with a tyrant's
power over the inhabitants of his lordship, exacting on a reduced scale all
the homage of life and limb, which he in turn was bound to render to his
sovereign. There are still lands in England retaining many of these feudal
laws and customs, and of these the Manor of Writtle in Essex, which gives
the title to the noble family of Petre, is a remarkable specimen.
Writtle, the largest and one of the finest parishes in Essex, is considered
to be the site of the Roman station of Jasoromagus, named in the Itinerary
of Antoninous. In the reign of Edward the Confessor, it formed part of
tiie possessions of Earl Harold, who succeeded the Confessor in the govern-
ment of the kingdom, and after the battle of Hastings, Writtle fell into the
grasp of the Conqueror, who at the general survey, held it in demesne as
the king's fee — we may suppose it to have been a favourite hunting resort
of the succeeding monarchs, for in 1211, King John erected a palace there
opposite to what is now called the Lordship Farm, but the moat is the only
vestige of its magnificence. At a later period of his reign, John granted
the manor and park of Writtle, in fee farm with free warren to one of the
family of Nova Villa, or Neville. After various subsequent changes it re-
turned into the hands of the Nevilles, and in the 14th year of King Henry
III. it was held by Ralph Neville, Bishop of Chichester, the same who
built a palace in Holborn as a towrn residence for the bishops of his see,
when they visited London. This palace becoming the property of Henry
Lacey, Earl of Lincoln, has ever since been called Lincoln Inn. Henry
subsequently granted the Manor of Writtle for exchange of lands in the
county of Chester, to Isabella de Brugs or Braes, sister of the Earl of Ches-
ter, who was pcisoned by his wife, a Welsh heiress, and her son Robert did
homage for it, serving in Wales for one knight's fee. The grandson of this
Robert, being Earl of Carrick, so well known as the "Bruce of Bannock-
burn," having been crowned King of Scotland, at Scone, 25 March, 1305,
was forthwith deprived of all his English possessions by Edward I.
By an inquisition taken in the 5th year of Edward III., it was found that
Richard de Walleyes and Eleanora, his wife, did hold the third part of the
manor of Writtle, at the time of the death of the said Alianora, as of her
dower, arid it was further found that King Edward, father of Edward III.,
did grant to Humphrey de Bohun, sometime Earl of Hereford and
Essex, and to Elizabeth, his wife, the manors of Writtle and Horsefrith,
adjoining, and that of John de Bohun, then Earl of Hereford and Essex,
son and heir of the aforesaid held the manors of Writtle and Horsfrith, for
ever of the king in capite by the service of one knight's fee. John dying
without issue was succeeded by his brother, Humphrey, who obtained the
royal permission to embattle and fortify his house at Writtle, additions par-
ticularly necessary to the comfort and security of a feudal baron in those
times. Anne, the grand-daughter and heiress of Humphrey de Bohun, was
contracted whilst in tender years to Thomas, Earl of Stafford, who dying in
1 392, she by virtue of the king's special licence took hisnext surviving brother
and heir, Edmund, Earl of Stafford, for a husband ; he was slain at the battle
of Shrewsbury, in 1403, and their son Humphrey, who in addition to all
his other titles had been created Duke of Buckingham, was, at the time of
his death (being slain at the battle of Northampton, 1460,) found possessed
of the manor of Writtle and Boyton. Writtle continued to be among the
possessions of this family, until the death of Edward Stafford, the third and
last duke, who for some frivolous cause of offence given at a court banquet,
having fallen under the displeasure of the then all-powerful favourite Cardinal
140 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.
Wolsey, was through his malice and revenge, beheaded on Tower hill, 1 7 May,
1521 , whereupon all his estates being forfeited, the manor of Writtle once more
became the property of the crown. The manor of Writtle was once more des-
tined to change hands, Sir William Petre, one of the most successful statesman
and singular characters of *the remarkable times in which he lived, came
into notice of Henry VIII. soon after the disgrace and death of Cardinal
Wolsey. Sir William Petre having been secretary during three reigns,
(notwithstanding the different political and religious opinions which pre-
vailed during those reigns,) in the first year of the reign of Mary, he obtained
possession of the manor and park of Writtle. By this deed of grant, re-
markable from the fact that in it Queen Mary among her titles takes that
of Supreme Head of the Church of England and Ireland, she gives to Sir
William Petre, Knt. and his descendants in exchange for certain lands in
Somersetshire, and in consideration of his good, true, faithful and acceptable
services, to her therefore manifoldly rendered, and of her special grace in
consequence, all that the lordship and manor of Writtle, and those two parks
of Writtle and Horsfrith, in the county of Essex, with all, and singular their
rights, members and appurtenances, and all the right she herself possessed,
over all lands, fisheries, &c. within the said manors, the goods and chattels
of all felons and fugitives, the rights of wardship and marriage, each of which
appears to have been productive of much emolument, even after the coarse
customs of the early feudal barons had been laid aside, also all the perqui-
sites and profit?, in which are included the male and female deer in the
parks, and the male and female villeins or peasants with all their belongings,
in short absolute power over the inhabitants of the district, whether man or
beast. Together with all the feudal rights, customs, and appurtenances,
some of which customs are of a very singular description, and scarcely to
be understood at the present day, but which render the lord of the manor
even now a very formidable person in his own territory. He appoints his
own coroner for the peculiar and exempt jurisdiction of Writtle, and by his
steward, holds baronial courts within the manor, where all the singular
customs peculiar to ancient demesne, as Writtle is still styled, are rigorously
enforced; he there imposes fines, and on the death of a tenant or the alienation
of a tenant's property, he takes possession as a heriot of the best living
beast. At these courts wills can be proved without the interference of the
see of Canterbury, an instance of which occurred so lately as 1810. It
would perhaps be advantageous if the lord could still, as formerly exercise
some controul over the morals of the vassals, for at a court held in the
7th Henry VI. a man was severely fined for slandering his neighbour, and
the curate of the parish being convicted of immoral conduct, was not only
amerced himself in the then considerable sum of 33s. 4d., but the vicar also
had to pay a fine, for concealing the fault. It is the custom of the manor,
that on the death of a tenant, if his property be not claimed at the next
court, it may be seized into the lord's hands ; if a tenant leaving no son, die
intestate, his property devolves solely on his eldest daughter, to the ex-
clusion of the rest. To pass over a certain portion of the manor called
green-way, all carts, save those of the lords must pay a fine of four pence, this
is called lefe silver or lefe and lace. Another custom goes by the name of
stubble silver, it being a certain fine or airsage for every pig ranging in the
woods, from Michaelmas day to Martinmas, and such as were not duly
paid for, were at once forfeited to the lord. Various officers were appointed
to carry out the laws &c. of the manor, and continue to be so every year.
The bedell we may suppose formerly to have been a person of vast dignity
EUSTON. 141
and importance, his very garments partaking of his power, " for at one court
an unfortunate villain is fined 20 pence for pulling ye coat of ye bedell
set upon a door for the safe keeping of goods within." He was chosen by
the tenants. The prefsectus or overseer, was also chosen by the tenants ;
and there are many instances of recourse being had to severe measures to
oblige the person so chosen to do his duty gratis. The fugalores or wood-
wards, had charge of the woods and parks. An officer styled the lord's
paler collected the pale wheat due as rent from various tenants. The caterer,
(often alluded to by Chaucer) took charge of the lord's provisions, while the
wagebread visiting the bakers, was charged to report all those who sold
bread deficient in weight ; and that all things might be equally good, a dig-
nitary, bearing the title of the lord's taster of ale, seized all such as forfeit
which was not in his opinion sound and sufficient in strength. These are
some of the remarkable remaining customs of the feudal tenure of Writtle,
which has remained in the possession of Sir William Petre's descendants, to
the present day. His son John, was created a Peer by James I. with
the title of Baron Petre, of Writtle.
to. J^uffotfc.
" Here noble Grafton spreads his rich domains,
Round Euston's water' d vale, and sloping plains,
Here woods and groves in solemn grandeur rise,
Here the kite brooding unmolested flies ;
The woodcock and the painted pheasant race,
And sculking foxes, destined for the chase."
ROBERT Bloomfield, the rustic bard of Suffolk, was born in the vicinity of
" Grafton's rich domain;" and his muse loved to commemorate the beauties
of those favoured scenes, wherein his mind first became stored with that
abundance of rural imagery, which, feeding his natural passion for the
country, was one day to give an irresistible charm to the simple language
of the untaught peasant. Magical is the power of genius ! The humble
" Shepherd's boy, he sought no better name," has imparted a poetic as-
sociation to the princely home of Euston, more attractive than any other
connected with its history.
The village of Euston is situated a mile from Fakenham, but the park
extends nearly to that place. It was formerly the lordship of a family
bearing the local name, and afterwards descended to SIR HENRY BENNKT,
who by King Charles II. was made Secretary of State, and created
Viscount Thetford, and Earl of Arlington. He enjoyed the estate for
many years, and built the mansion of Euston Hall. In reference to this,
we find the following remarks of John Evelyn :
" A stranger preached at Euston church, and fell into a hansome pane-
gyric on my lord's new building the church, which indeed for its elegance
and cheerfulness is one of the prettiest country churches in England. My
lord told me his heart smote him that after he had bestowed so much on
his magnificent palace there, he should see God's house in the ruine it lay
in. He has also rebuilt the parsonage-house all of stone, very neat and
ample."
By Isabella of Nassau, his wife, daughter of Lewis, Count of Nassau, the
earl left an only daughter and heiress, ISABELLA, the wife of Henry Fitzroy,
second illegitimate son of King Charles II., by the Duchess of Cleveland.
142 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.
Immediately after his marriage in 1672, Henry Fitzroy was created by his
father Earl of Euston, and in three years after made Duke of Grafton.
His Grace died from the effects of a wound received at the siege of Cork,
9 Oct. 1690, and was buried at Euston. His son and successor, CHARLES,
2nd DUKE OF GRAFTON, K.G., Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, inherited, in right
of his mother, the Earldom of Arlington : he married Henrietta, daughter
of Charles, Marquess of Worcester, and dying in 1757, was succeeded by
his grandson, AUGUSTUS HENRY, 3rd DUKE OF GRAFTON, K.G. who filled
at one time the office of first Lord of the Treasury. His Grace died 14
March 1811, and was succeeded by his son, GEORGE HENRY, 4th DUKE OF
GRAFTON. K.G. Lord Lieutenant, Vice Admiral, and Gustos Rotulorum of
Suffolk. This nobleman died in Sept. 1844, when his honours and estates
devolved on his son, HENRY, present duke.
The mansion of Euston is large and commodious, built with red brick, of
modern date, and without any gaudy decorations within or without. The
house is almost surrounded with trees of uncommon growth, and the most
healthy and luxuriant appearance, and near it glides the river Ouse. The
scenery about the hall and park combines the most delightful assemblage
of rural objects that can well be imagined, and is justly celebrated by the
author of the " Farmer's Boy."
The estate is not less than between thirty and forty miles in circum-
ference, including a number of villages and hamlets. On an elevated situa-
tion in the park stands the temple. This elegant structure was designed
for a banqueting-house, and was built by the celebrated Kent, under the
auspices of Henry, 3rd Duke of Grafton, who laid the first stone himself in
1746. It consists of an upper and lower apartment, and is in the Grecian
style of architecture. It forms an interesting object from many points of
view in the neighbourhood, and commands a wide range of prospect.
Bloomfield, in his " Autumn," thus eulogizes Euston and its noble pro-
prietor :
" Here smiling Euston boasts her good Fitzroy
Lord of pure alms, and gifts that wide extend,
The farmer's patron, and the poor man's friend ;
Whose mansion glitt'ring with the eastern ray,
Whose elevated temple points the way
O'er slopes and lawns, the park's extensive pride,
To where the victims of the chase reside."
23rantfon 19arfe ariB ftflanov, to.
THIS ancient manor and estate appear to have been in the possession of King
Henry III., by whom, in the thirty-fifth year of his reign, they were granted
to Hugh Bishop of Ely, and his successors, together with free chase in all
their demesnes in that part of the country. So, the lands remained until the
time of ELIZABETH, when they reverted to the crown, in consequence, it is
presumed, of an exchange by the See for other estates : an inference borne
out by various records of the periods attesting that during the reign of Eliza-
beth and her immediate successor, no less than twenty suits were instituted
connected with the Brandon property, and that in one, a commision issued
out of the Court of Exchequer, directed to Sir John Heigham, Knt. and
Robert Peyton, Esq. to enquire into the subject of the controversy and to
return a certificate of their opinion thereon. The result of this investigation
was an award in favour of the crown, in which it was declared that the
THE LANDS OF ENGLAND. 143
manor, with free chase, right and royalties, vested ; and under this re-
cognition James I., in the third year of his reign, granted the estate
to his son Prince Charles and his heirs male : we next find Brandon
in the possession of Lord Villiers, Viscount Purbeck, elder brother
of the celebrated court favourite George, Duke of Buckingham, and it
remained with the Wrights, who claimed to be Lord Purbeck's descendants,
and long sought the family honours, until 1727, when John Wright, alias
Villiers, who assumed the titles of Viscount Purbeck and Earl of Bucking-
ham, becoming the associate of gamblers, and dissipating his inheritance,
sold the lands and manor of Brandon to the trustees of the will of the Lord
Chief Justice Holt. At length in 1818, Admiral George Wilson, of Red-
grave, whose mother was the heiress of the Holts, alienated Brandon, with
the manor, rights and royalties, to the late EDWARD BLISS, Esq., a gentle-
man of great opulence, and public spirit, who devoting unceasing attention
to the improvement of his purchase, was enabled to improve the district to a
most remarkable extent, and to ameliorate, in an equal degree, the condition
of the poor, by occupying them advantageously for their own interest as
well as for that of the community at large. Not long after the acquisition
of Brandon, he commenced planting, and in less than six months covered
a large portion of the land with no fewer than eight millions of trees, thus
transforming tracts hitherto wild and sterile into richly wooded plantations
and productive farms. Mr. Bliss, who was a justice of the peace, and
served as High Sheriff of Suffolk in 1836, died 2nd April, 1845, possessed
of immense wealth. Desirous of being buried on his own estate, he had
erected a spacious mausoleum near the house, embosomed in plantations,
and there "now repose his mortal remains.' Brandon Park, with its fine
mansion and the whole of his other property, (subject to some life annuities)
passed to his nephew Henry Aldridge, Esq., who by sign manual changed
his name to Bliss, and is the present lord of the manor.
The following acrostic, addressed to the late Mr. Bliss, on his adornment
of Brandon, is ascribed to the pen of his early friend, Lord Eldon : —
E-nchanted I view the scene with surprise :
D-oes not illusion deceive my rapt eyes ?
W-here are the sands, and where is the warren ?
A-re not these scenes, to my memory foreign ?
R-abbits and conies were lords of the soil,
D-eep sands made the traveller's journey a toil,
B-ut now the smooth turnpike invites to proceed :
L-o the warren is changed to a sweet verdant mead !
I-nstead of a desert, like Arabic ground
S-ee a Palace adorns, and forests abound ;
S-ee Bliss has created a Paradise round.
VOL. IV. NO. XVI.
144
'
siijjO
[list bn.e :
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
'•;'.'•'' •'V.'O.'.t.'i1'! ';i!.<-i').' '
THE publication of Sir Harris Nicolas on this subject belongs to that
branch of human learning ranged by Lord Bacon under the general
category of rt Antiquities or remnants of history," and which were
likened by him to the painting of a wreck (tabula naufragii) which is,
says he, when industrious persons by an exact and scrupulous diligence
and observation, out of monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions,
private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of books
that concern not story and the like, do save and recover somewhat from
the deluge of time. In considering the general condition of human know-
ledge and learning in his day he assigned no deficience to antiquities,
" because any deficience in them is but their nature."
Be this however as it may, that which was " antiquities" has here
become " history" through the zeal and disinterested exertions of the
learned author j and the judges, parties and witnesses who figured in
the celebrated case of Scrope and Grosvenor are again before us in all
the reality of a representment,
" Lifeless yet lifelike and awful to sight;"
grim seamed warriors, tried in the wars of " le bon roy Edward tierce
que Dieu assoile," and companions of the Black Prince, youthful
knights and esquires, " per poy de temps armez/' royal dukes and mitred
abbots ! There are —
" Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster —
And Harry Hotspur the all hepraised knight;"
and on the opposite side in this suit his antipodes, the cool, calculating,
fantastic, conceited Glendower,
" The great magician, the damn'd Glendower,"
besides Stanleys, and Breretons, and Courtenays, and Grays, and Cliffords,
and Talbots, and a host of historical names, and with them one belong-
ing to the aristocracy of English genius, whose name blazes like a
beacon in that remote age,
" The morning star of song,
Dan Chancer."
We have them all upon their examinations, princes and earls answering
"parlafoy de chivalerie," and those of inferior degree upon their oaths.
Whether we consider the names of the parties whose depositions were
taken, or of the parties interested, or of the judges in the first or last
resort, the extraordinary constitution of the tribunal, or the curious
subject matter of the controversy, there are few of us who will fail to
find in the perusal of the original record of the case of Scrope and
Grosvenor and the notes appended a wide field for fruitful meditation.
Who will grudge to the author his meed of thanks and commendation,
the just salvage for his rescue of this wreck (once more a trim and
gallant vessel) from the "deluge of time?"
The perusal of the case of Scrope and Grosvenor involves a considera-
tion of the origin, nature and jurisdiction of the once redoubtable tribu-
THE SCROPE AND GROSVEN'OR CONTROVERSY. 145
nal of the constable and marshal. But to what source shall we refer for
authentic materials upon this subject? Dr. Plott's treatise on the Curia
Militaris exists I believe only in its title page and table of contents, the
records of the court are for the most part destroyed, Sir Robert Cotton's
collection (however valuable may be the information that it affords) is
not available but to the laborious student and patient investigator. If we
turn for incidental notice to our books of reports, meagre indeed is the
result ; the questions therein raised respecting the tribunal affect merely
a small branch of its jurisdiction. In this dearth of accessible materials,
the Cottonian MSS. unconsulted from want of time, we have, as autho-
rities for the following resume', been compelled to rest contented with
the case of Lord Rea and Ramsay in our State Trials, with Camden's
disquisitions On the Office of Earl Marshal, a few manuscript treatises
in the Inner Temple Library, and with Dr. Duck's remarks upon the
Curia Militaris contained in the work De Usu et Authoritate Juris Civilis,
termed by Struvius " non inelegans tractatus," and one of those few
treatises written by British lawyers to which foreign jurists condescend
to refer- Dr. Duck's opinions upon this subject may be considered as
peculiarly valuable, for he was appointed by King Charles I. his advocate
in the Court of Chivalry (promotor oausarum regiarum), and was counsel
in the last cause of arms (Lord Reay v. Ramsay) ever brought before that
dreaded tribunal, and in which two other celebrated antiquaries, original
members of the Society of Antiquaries (Selden and Cotton) had been
also consulted. The judges of the Court of Chivalry were the constable
and marshal, invested with equal authority for the decision of causes,
although the marshal alone was intrusted with the execution of the
judgments awarded.* It cannot be affirmed that these offices existed in
the time of the Anglo-Saxon kings ; on the contrary, rather were they
introduced by the Norman princes after the example of the Gauls, who,
anciently in imitation of the Romans, had as far back as the reign of
Charlemagne their constables and marshals strongly resembling, as
French writers themselves attest, the magistri equitum and tribuni
celerum of the Romans. f Be this however as it may, both offices
were ever regarded in this country as of the most exalted nature. That
of constable has been filled by sons, brothers or uncles of our kings,
and finally descended by right of inheritance to the Staffords, dukes of
Buckingham, by whom it was long held until the hereditary office itself
was abolished in the reign of Henry VII., at the death and attainder of
Edward, Duke of Buckingham. The power of the constable was so
great that it became at last an object of suspicion to the crown itself j
and when the chief justice was asked by Henry VIII. as to the degree
of authority possessed by the constable,} he begged to decline the ques-
tion, affirming that the solution belonged to the law of arms and not to
the law of England. From that time the office has rarely been granted
by the sovereigns, and when conferred it has only been for occasional
purposes, § such as coronations or particular trials in which the common
law provided no adequate remedy.
The court derived a considerable accession of pomp and dignity from
the circumstance of the heralds acting as its officers. These were gar-
ter king at arms (especially charged with the forms and ceremonies con-
* Coke, 4 Institvile, c. 17. t Duck.
S 4 Institute, c 17. J Kdw. Rep. Mich. Term. 6 Henry VIII. f. 171.
146 THE SCROPE AXD GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
nected with the illustrious Order of the Garter), Clarencieux king at arms
for the south of England, Norroy king at arms for the northern districts,
and six other inferior heralds or pursuivants. The principal office of the
heralds was to act as messengers of pence and war, to charge themselves
with the settlement of the rank, genealogies and arms of our families,
to marshal the ceremonies attending the coronations of our sovereigns,
and the proceedings upon duels before the constable and marshal, to
arrange the funeral rites of deceased nobles and gentlemen upon occa-
sions of solemnity, besides other duties which devolved upon them by
virtue of their appointment, they were formed into a college and invested
with many privileges by the English kings and exercised their functions
under the authority and jurisdiction of the constable and marshal.
Proceedings. — The authority of the civil law in the court is recognized
by all our books,* and is styled law of the realm, law of the crown,
law of the land.f It is also clear that all suits before that tribunal were
always dealt with by the civil law and the customs of arms, and not by the
common law of England, and accordingly a sentence of death entailed
no forfeiture of land or corruption of blood. \
But since the constable and marshal had other public affairs of impor-
tance to attend to, a doctor or other lawyer of experience versed in the im-
perial jurisprudence was occasionally appointed for life to direct the pro-
.ceedings§; so in the reign of Edward IV.,a learned civilian was made king's
advocate in the same court. || Dr. Duck held a similar office by patent
from Charles I. dated the seventh year of his reign.
All causes proceeded according to the forms prescribed by the civil law,
i.e. libel, or petition ; the witnesses were privately examined j the pleas,
replications and other proceedings observed the forms of the same juris-
prudence, the decrees were in writing, as likewise were the appeaU.
The dignity and supremacy of the court were such that wherever any one
excepted to its jurisdiction, the matter was referred to the lords of the
privy council. Appeals from definitive sentences have for the most part
been made not to the chancellors, but to the kings themselves, who have
thereupon generally nominated as delegates the chief nobles of England
associating with them some doctors of the civil law. All this once and per-
haps still clearly appears by the records of this Court, preserved in the Royal
Archives in the Tower of London, which it has been said frequently fur-
nish readings upon the Roman jurisprudence.^} The court of the con-
stable and marshal had cognisance of crimes committed in lands out of
the realm, of contracts made in foreign parts, and of things that pertain
to war and arms whether within the realm or in foreign parts.**
1. Of Crimes committed on Lands out of the Realm. — Thus where one
Englishman charged another Englishman with the commission of treason
out of England, the proceeding was before the constable and rnarshal,ft
* Fortesc. de Legib. Angl. c. 32 ; Finch in Nomotechn. lib. 4. cap. ; Coke, 1 Inst.
c. 1 ; sec. 3,; and 4 Inst. c. 74.
t Mich. Term, 32 Henry VI. f. 3 ; Pasch Term, 37 Henry VI. Tresp. 8. f. 21 ; Kelw.
Mich. Term, 6 Henry VIII. f. 171 ; Coke, 1 Inst. lib. 1. c. 1, sec. 3 ; and 4 Inst. c. 74.
J Coke, 4 Inst. c. 17.
§ Coke, 4 Inst. c.17. ex par. 2, patent 23 Hen.VI. memb. 20 23. Edw. III. merab. 2.
II Patent 8 Edward IV. memb. 1 ; Coke, 4 Inst. c. 17.
fi Duck De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, c. 8, part 3, s. 22.
* Duck De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, cap. 8, part 3, s. 15 ; Reeves' History of
the English Law, 3rd ed. vol. 3, p. 195, 196, vol. 4, p. 303. Stat. 13 Rich. II. stat, 1. c. 2.
ft Coke 1 Institute, lib. 2, cap. 3, sec. 102 ; 37 Henry VI. f. 3.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY 147
and the proof was by witnesses or (by the ancient customs of this court)
by the duel. So where one of the king's subjects killed another subject
in Scotland or elsewhere in foreign parts, neither the courts of common
law here* nor Parliament itself f had jurisdiction j and accordingly when
Francis Drake had put one Dourish to death in America in the 25th
year of Queen Elizabeth, and his brother and next heir claimed justice
at the hands of the queen, the judges having been consulted on the
subject advised her majesty that no proceeding could be instituted with
reference to the offence but before the constable and marshal, J and
weighty reasons deterring her, the queen refused to appoint a constable,
and so the charge fell to the ground. But when, during the reign of
Charles I. A.D. 1632, William Holmes an Englishman had killed with
his sword William Wise another Englishman in Newfoundland, and the
widow petitioned Charles I. to be admitted to an appeal of her husband's
death, the Earl Lindsay was appointed constable for that eole occasion,
and he and the Lord Arundel, Earl Marshal of England, by a definitive
sentence promulgated in the Court of Chivalry in April, 16 3S, condemned
Holmes to death, a fate from which he was only saved by a royal pardon, §
So also where one Englishman inflicted a mortal wound upon another
Englishman in France whereof the latter afterwards died in this country,
he could not be tried at common law, but only in the Court of Chivalry. ||
It is true that, as far as treason committed out of the realm was con-
.cerned, the court ceased to have exclusive jurisdiction by the effect of
several acts afterwards passed, which rendered that crime cognizable
also by the Court of King's Bench or Royal Commissioners.^
2. Of Contracts made in Foreign Parts. — Of these, this court had also
cognizance. Thus, in the reign of Henry IV., one Pountney impleaded
one Burney Knight, before the constable and marshal in.respect of a loan
of £10 made at Bourdeaux in Gascony.** And in the national rolls once
preserved in the Tower of London numerous instances occurred of judg-
ments in this court respecting all kinds of civil contracts made abroad,
especially during the reigns of Edward III., Richard II., Henry IV., Hen-
ry V. and Henry VI., whilst the English crown held Normandy, Aquitaine,
Anjou, and other extensive provinces in France.ff Indeed the notion
prevailed generally amongst us, that the cognizance of contracts made
abroad belonged of right to this tribunal and that of contracts made
within the realm to the courts of common law.^ Originally the Court
of Chivalry must have had exclusive cognizance in the case of such
foreign contracts. In -the process of time, however, the courts of com-
mon law contrived to obtain a concurrent jurisdiction by the fiction
which enabled them to be averred as if made in England. For it has
long been settled in our courts where one Englishman has taken the
* Rot. Parl. 3 Henry VI. memb. 38 ; Stamford, pi. Coronas, 65 ; Coke,'] Inst. lib. 2 ;
cap. 3, sec. 102 ; 4 Inst, c. 17 ; and 2 Inst. ad Magn. Chart, c. 29.
t Stat. 1 Henry IV. c. 14.
£ Coke 1 Inst. lib. 2, cap. 3, sec. 102.
§ Duck, De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, cap. 8, pars 3, s. 16.
|| Coke, 1 Inst. lib. 2, cap. 3, s. 102, and lib. 3, cap. 13, sec. 745.
t St. 26 Henry VIII. c. 13; 35 Henry VIII. c. 2 ; 5 Ed. VI. c. 11 ; Coke, 4 Inst.
cap. 17.
** Ter. Mich. 13 Hen. IV.
tt Coke 1 Inst. lib. 3, cap. 13, sec. 745, 4 Inst. c. 17 ; Selden ad Fortesc, cap. 32,
tJ Mich. Term, 13 Hen. IV. ; Dalt. 10; Fortesc. de Leg. Angl. c. 32.
148 ' THE SCUOPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
goods of another Englishman or made a contract with him abroad, that
actions may in either respect be supported in the courts of common
law here by a suggestion which the opposite party may not deny, that
the goods were taken or the contracts entered into in some place within
this kingdom. Just as the testaments of Roman citizens captured by
hostile nations were supported by the fictions postlimii and of the lex
Cornelia 3 for when a Roman citizen had become a slave to any hostile
people he at once lost not merely his freedom but all the rights and
privileges of a Roman citizen, so that his will previously made would
have became inoperative, but for the aid of these expedients, for it was
considered that if he returned to his country his testament might be set
up by the fiction (postlimii) which supposed him never to have been
captured or absent from his country, and if on the other hand he died
a captive, by the fiction that he had died before captured, a Roman
citizen. J
The main and essential difference between the English and the civil
law in this respect being, that the expedients in the former case originated
with the lawyers, in the latter with the leg'slative authority j and in the
former, were devised to gain a jurisdiction, in the latter to remedy a de-
fect in legal principle.
3. Of Things that pertain to War and Arms whether within the Realm or
in Foreign Parts. — These constituted another branch of the jurisdiction
of the constable and marshal, who were said to have the sole cognizance
of all controversies arising out of war or arms.* Where an alien
entered England and levied war upon our sovereign he could not for-
merly be proceeded against or punished by the law of England any-
where but in the Court of Chivalry,t wherefore the constable and
marshal were styled keepers of the peace of the realm.
And as order is one of the first principles of a monarchy, and as
order supposes inequalities of ranks and suggests the necessity of
an ordering or marshalling, all that attended the court or the camp
of the sovereign had to be arranged in their proper stations, and these
were regulated by certain armorial bearings or insignia which were worn
either in their own right or in his right whom they served or followed.
The cognizance of all controversies springing out of the user or as-
sumption of these insignia belonged wholly to the Court of Chivalry j
and serious indeed were the quarrels and dissensions to which they gave
rise, when two or more families laid claim to the same arms : sanguin-
ary feuds were often the consequence j this was more especially the
case amongst the feudal nobles of France and Italy.
As an instance of the jealousy that was then felt at anyinferferencewith
armorial ensigns, may be cited the deposition of John Charnels, who
says of Sir William Scrope of Mashani : " Being in garrison during
the old war in a castle, called Quarranteau, he with forty of his com-
rades irade a chivauchee to the castle of Timbre, higher up the
country, designing to take any other castle or to perform some piece of
service in their route. Among them was Sir William Scrope, brother
he believed of Sir Henry Scrope ; and finding the garrison of Geneville,
without the town, and in disorder, Charnels and his comrades attacked
+ Duck de Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. ii, c. 8 pars 8, s. 18.
* Sta. 13 Richard I., c. 2.
± Finch in Nomotcchn. lib. 4. c. 1.
THE SCROPE AND (5ROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 149
them and made about forty prisoners. A knight, called Sir Philip de
la Monstue, became prisoner to Charnels and because he was armed in
the entire arms of Sir William Scrope, he wished to kill him. Charnels
therefore made his prisoner divest himself of his arms, or Scrope would
certainly have put him to death.'' It may indeed have been that doubts,
which had been raised as to the Scrope right in this particular, had
made the members of the family more than ordinarily sensitive upon
the subject ; and we find several depositions of the Grosvenor witnesses
in which old soldiers somewhat sneeringly insinuate that two law-
yers were the first of the family who had borne the arms ; and it is ex-
pressly stated that at an early period of his life, Sir Richard Scrope
made proposals for the daughter of Sir Robert Hilton ; but the terms
not being accepted, he married a daughter of Sir William de la Pole 5
at which Hilton was so enraged that he said : " I am glad that he did
not marry my daughter, for I have heard that he is not a ' grand gentil
homme/ " To which however Sir John Hasethorpe, then more than an
hundred years old, replied : ' ' Sir, say not so, for I assure you, on my soul,
he is descended from grands gentils hommes from the times of the con-
quest." In addition to this, there were about that time two other rival
claimants to the arms in question, a Carminow and a Grosvenor; even
Sir Richard Scrope's right to bear his crest, a crab issuing from a ducal
crown, had been challenged at Calais forty years before the suit of
Scrope v. Grosvenor, which might render Sir William Scrope still
more tender upon the point.
In Italy political subdivisions, fortunately for the domestic peace of
that country, tended in some measure to keep adverse claimants of simi-
lar arms asunder, so that their animosity could only display itself upon
rare occasions. For the local government would only interfere between
families in the same state ; consequently the ancient Florentine family
of Delia Presa were suffered with impunity to bear the same arms as
the equally ancient Venetian family Cornari, of which descendants are
said to exist in this country under the Anglicised form, Corner. So
the Dandoli of Venice, of whom was
" blind old Dandalo
The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe,"
and the Giandonati of Florence, houses of almost equal antiquity had
the same heraldic insignia. The same was the case with the Fieschi
of Genoa and the Inbangati of Florence.
The Scotti of Parma bear, we believe, the Douglas arms, but then they
are said to be of the same race.
The same reason which hindered the supreme authority in the differ-
ent states of Italy from interfering where the same arms were borne by
foreign families, weighed, it would seem in influencing the decision of a
cause of arms in which Sir Richard Scrope had been engaged before
his contest with Sir Robert Grosvenor. Sir Richard had been challenged
by an esquire of Cornwall, named Carminow, as to his right to bear tho
arms, azure a bend or, and the dispute was decided by the Duke of
Lancaster, the Earl of Northampton, the constable, and the Earl of
Warwick, the marshal of the army, who adjudged that they might
both bear the said arms entire, on the ground that Carminow was of
150 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
Cornwall which was a large country and was formerly a kingdom, and that
the Scropes had borne them since the conquest.
In this country discussions not seldom arose, which were brought
before the Court of Chivalry : such were the cases of Sir Reginald Grey
de Ruthven and Sir Edward Hastings, Thomas Bawdy and Nicholas
Singleton, and many others which after long litigation and debate were
finally settled either by a judicial sentence of the curia militaris, by an
appeal to the arbitrament of the duel, or to the king himself, as was the
course taken in the most celebrated case of them all, that of Sir Richard
Scrope and Sir Robert Grosvenor.*
The cause of Hastings and Gray de Ruthven, before the consta-
ble and marshal, regarded the right to bear the arms of Hastings, or a
maunch gu. It lasted twenty years and was finally decided against
Hastings, who was condemned in heavy costs and imprisoned sixteen
years for disobeying the judgment of the court.
The cause of Baudy and Singleton respected the right to the arms.
fules three chevronels or, and it is singular enough that Sir Richard
crope was one of the peers commanded by the king (18 Richard II.)
to settle the affair so similar to the one in which he had himself been a
party.
The proceedings in the Scrope and Grosvenor controversy extend from
1385 to 1389, during the whole of which period Thomas of Woodstock,
Duke of Gloucester, youngest son of Edward III., was Lord High
Constable, and Thomas de Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham, subsequently
created Duke of Norfolk, was Earl Marshal, the first who had the title
of earl prefixed to the name of office. It is noted that the high appoint-
ments of Presidents of the Court of Chivalry were assigned to each of
these unfortunate personages on account of female connections, the
latter representing, on the mother's side, the Brotherton branch of the
house of Plantagenet, the former having married the Lady Alianore de
Bohun, one of the daughters and coheirs of Humphrey, last Earl of
Hereford, Essex and Northampton, in whose powerful family the office
of Lord High Constable of England had been hereditary for the two
preceding centuries. The Lady Margaret Plantagenet, Duchess of
Norfolk, grandmother of Lord Mowbray, challenged a right to the office
of Marshal at the coronation of Richard II., and prayed that she might
perform the duties by deputy ; the claim however was not then allowed,
Henry, Lord Percy having been specially appointed to act as Marshal
upon that occasion. The prefix of earl to the subsequent appointment
of her grandson might perhaps be used to obviate any slight to the
Duchess who was then living. Once assumed however it was ever after-
wards retained. This illustrious personage, the Duke of Norfolk, lost by
his hostility to the king's favourite De Vere the favour of the crown,
and subsequently bis life. The Earl Marshal thinking to ingratiate him-
self with King Richard, became one of the main tools of his murderous
designs, a subserviency that did not save himself from subsequent ruin
and destruction consequent upon the denunciation of his own treasonous
language by Henry Duke of Hereford, afterwards Henry IV., of which
so graphic and vivid a picture is drawn by the immortal pen of our great
dramatist : in which Bolingbroke is made to say,
Duck op. cit. lib. 11. c. 8. s< xx.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR COXTROVKRSY. 151
" Now Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well ; for what I speak
My body shall make good upon tl .is earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in Heaven.
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant ;
Too good to be so and too bad to live."
RICHARD II., Act I , Scene I.
In the proceedings in the case of Scrope and Grosvenor, however,
Thomas of Gloucester took the principal share, and the Earl Marshal
seems not to have been present upon any of the occasions, but to have been
represented by his deputy (Lieutenant) Johan de Multon ; the commissions
to examine witnesses run in the name of the constable alone, and it
is noteworthy that the writs in the appeal are not from the sentence of
the Court of Chivalry, nor from the joint judgment of the constable
and the marshal, but from that of the constable alone.* And yet Dr.
Duckf tells us that the " conestabilis et marescallus Angliae pari potestate
in causis pronunciant." But it is manifest from the history of the Court
of Chivalry and from royal reluctance to revive the office, that if, to use
Sir Edward Coke's language, the Lord High Admiral was the Neptune
of our courts, the Lord High Constable was the Mars j and the equality of
jurisdiction assumed by the Marshal was perhaps not prior to the 20th
Rich. II., when he was first named in the King's Patent Earl (comes
rnarescallus.) The terms of the stat. 13 Rich. II., stat. 1, c. 2, seem
also to favour the superior authority of the constable, "To the con-
stable" it says, " belongs the cognizance of contracts touching deeds of
arms," &c., and yet in a subsequent clause it permits a privy seal to
issue to the constable and marshal to surcease certain pleas,
Thomas of Woodstock would seem to have been the first recognised
head of the Court of Chivalry who took any great or active part in
giving a regular and legal form to its proceedings j and there are extant
in the libraries of Lincoln's Inn, and of the Inner Temple, copies of a
book dedicated and presented by Thomas Fitz au Roy, Duke of Glou-
cester to his cousin, King Richard, containing ordinances regulating trial
by battle.}
The ancient Norman house of Scrob, Scroby, Lescrope or Scrope,
which subsequently became severed in the kindred branches of the
Scropes of Bolton, and of Masham, acted a conspicuous part in almost all
the great occurrences of British history, from the reign of Edward II.
to the First Charles, during which period it has been observed that the
family produced two earls, and twenty barons, one chancellor, four
treasurers, and two chief justices of England, five knights of the garter
and numerous bannerets, the highest military order in the days of
chivalry. Even at an earlier period the family had been one of station
* Sciatis quod cum constabularius noster Anglicc in quadam causa cle et super armis
de azura cum una benda de auro inter Ric. Le Scropum militem partem actricem ex
parte una et Robertum Grosvenour partem defendentem ex altera parte in curia
nostra militari mota et pendente procedens quandam sentendam definitivam injustam
ut asseritur tulisset, $c. vol. i. p. 11, and p. 354, 356.
t Op. cit. lib. ii., cap. 8, s. xiii.
J Lincoln's Inn Library MSS., Sir Thomas Hale, vol. xi. pi. 6. The ordinances
of Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, constable of England, touching battails armed within
lists, with an historical and legal commentary. Inner Temple Library MSS. the
same, with a comment by Sir John Burgh, Knight, and proceedings upon an appeal of
treason before the constable and marshal in a court military.
VOL. IV NO. XIV, N
152 THE SCROPJS AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
and consideration, and if a chronicle can be relied on, and the evidence of
the Prior of Bardeney and Welton, (one of the deponents in favour of
Scrope) can be esteemed sufficient identifications, its original founder
was a Norman settled in this country in the time of Edward the Con-
fessor, and as a favourite with that monarch, excepted out of the general
proscription, which it seems, drove for a time all Normans from the realm
to which, not long afterwards, they were to give laws. But be this how
it may, and the coincidence of name and proximity of estates counte-
nance the position, certain it nevertheless is that for its peculiar splen-
dour the Scropes, like many noble families of more recent date, were in-
debted to the profession of the law. Sir Henry le Scrope, eldest son
of Sir William le Scrope, according to the deposition of Sir William
A ton, was with the assent of his relatives put to the law, mys al le ley, and
was made a judge of the Court of King's Bench, 27 Nov. 1308, 2 Edward
II. ; he afterwards became the chief justice. He was a knight banneret,
and is so named in a roll of arms compiled between the 2 and 7 Edward
II,, which describes his bearings as azure a bend or, charged in the upper
part of the bend, with a lion passant purpure. The Prior of Gisburgh, (Sir
Harris Nicolas says the Abbot of Coverham, a slight inaccuracy,) deposed
that the lion was introduced into the bend in consequence of a grant to
one of the Scropes for the term of his life by the Earl of Lincoln, a
mode of marking affection and friendship by no means unusual at that
early period, although it was afterwards considered that as honours could
alone emanate from the crown, royal assent was essential to the validity
of any such grants j so the devise of his arms by Lord D'Eincourt was
questioned, according to Sir Edward Coke, in the House of Lords. How-
ever Selden and Camden have alluded to the practice, and Cheshire
historians have commented upon the frequency of the garb in the bear-
ing of families of that county which was assumed as a mark of respect
for or connection with the Earls of Cheshire.
By far the most illustrious member of the house of Scrope, of Bolton,
was however Sir Richard, the plaintiff in this suit of arms, who appears
to have been conspicuous for the rare union of the qualities essential to
the judge, the statesman and the warrior. Present in the battles of
Cressy, Durham, Najarra, the friend and comrade-in-arms of the most
eminent noblemen of the time, he rilled amongst other high offices, those
of treasurer, steward of the king's household, and lord high chancellor.
He appears to have been honoured by the respect and confidence of
those sovereigns. John of Gaunt was his especial patron ; the Black
Prince presented him with a covered tankard: a sword of Edward III.
(probably also a gift from the monarch) Sir Richard bequeathed by his
will to his son Stephen; Richard II. heaped dignities upon him and
his family, and we find Henry IV. in the first year of his reign protesting
" that he then considered him, and had always deemed him, a loyal
knight."
The termination of his long and eventful career was embittered by
the downfall of his eldest son the Earl of Wilts, who fell a sacrifice to
the cause of the dethroned monarch whose favorite he had been. " Few
incidents," says Sir H. Nicolas, " can be imagined of a more affect-
ing description than the scene in Parliament, when the attainder of
the Earl of Wiltshire was confirmed. Rising from his seat, his eyes
streaming with tears; the venerable peer implored that the proceedings
might not affect the inheritance of himself or his children, and after
SWEDISH BALLADS. 153
admitting the justice of the sentence, and deploring the conduct of his
son, the unhappy father was consoled by his sovereign, who deigned to
assure him thai neither his interests nor those of his children then living
should suffer from it, for that he had always considered, and still deemed
him a loyal knight.''
Such was Sir Richard Scrope at the close of his long career, in his
seventy-third year. Such was the man backed by ability, wealth, station,
warlike and civil repute, powerful partizans, royal friends and kingly fa-
vour, with whom, in the ripe maturity of his life, Sir Robert Grosvenor,
head of a family little at that period known out of his own country, had
the hardihood to contend in a cause of arms, where the chief judge was
his antagonist's friend. Could the issue be doubtful ?
(To be continued}.
SWEDISH BALLADS,
BY EDWARD KENEALY.
NECKEN.
NECKEN han gangar pa snohvitan sand ;
Vaker upp alia redlige drangar ! —
Sa skapar han sig till en valdiger man.
De unga hafva sofvit tiden allt for Idnge.
Och Nccken han gangar sig till skraddaregard,
Der later han gora sig den Kladningen bla.
Sa gangar han sig allt upp under 6,
Der dansar sa mangen utvalder mo.
Necken han trader i dansen in,
De Jungfruer rodna och blekna pa kind.
Och Necken han drager det roda gullband,
Det faller sa val uti Jungfruen's hand.
Och hb'r du, skon Jungfru, havad jag saga ma ;
Om sondag sku'vi motas, allt uppa Kyrkogard.
Och Jungfrun hon skulle till Kyrkan fara,
Och Hallfast han skulle hennes Koresven vara.
Tommar af silke och selen af gull ;
Kara du Hallfast, du Kor int' omkull !
Jungfrun hon aker till Kyrkan fram,
Och der moter hon sin fasteman.
Necken han rider till Kyrkan fram,
Han haktar sitt betsel pa Kyrkokam.
Necken han ganger i Kyrkan in,
Och radios ar Jungfrun for fasteman sin.
Priisten han framfor altaret staor ;
Hvad ar-fb'r en man, pa gangen der star ?
Havr ar du fodder och hvar ar du buren ?
Eller hvar hafver du dina klader val skuren,
N
154 SWEDISH BALLADS.
I hafvet, der iir jag bad fodder och buren,
Och der hafver jag mina kofklader skuren.
Och folket gich ut och skyndale hem,
Och bruden hon stod qvar med Brudgummen an.
Och hvar liar du Fader och hvar har du Moder ?
Och hvar har du vanner och hvar har du frander ?
Min Fader och Moder a' boljorna bla ;
Mina vanner och frander a' stickor och stra.
Och det ar sa svart uti hafvet att bo ;
Der aro sa manga, som ofver oss ro.
Ja, det ar sa svart uti hafvet att vara ;
Der aro sa manga som ofver oss fara.
Necken tog Jungfrun i fager gulan lock,
Sa band han henne vid sin sadelaknapp.
Och Jungfrun hon ropa' sa sorgeligt rop,
Det hordes sa vida till Konungens gard.
De sokte den Jungfrun allt ofver bro ;
Der funno de hennes gullspanda skor.
De sokte den Jungfrun allt upp efter fors,
Der funno de hennes linosa kropp.
THE NECKEN.
The Necken he walks on the sea- strand so white,
Wake ye my merrie men up from sleep,
And he changes his shape to a gallant young knight,
Too long has the youth lain in slumber deep.
And into the tailor's house quickly he hies,
And dons him in robes of the finest blue dyes.
Then the Necken goes off to the far Isle away,
Where the lovely young villagers dance all the day.
He joins in the dance, and so gracefully moves,
Every maid as she looks on him feels that she loves.
And the Necken he takes up the shining gold band,
It becometh so sweetly the fair maiden's hand.
And hearken, fair maid, what I say unto thee,
In the churchyard, next Sunday, our meeting shall be.
Away to the church doth the fair maiden ride,
And Hailfast the driver he sat by her side.
The bridle was silk, and the shafts were of gold,
And Hailfast the driver was skilful and bold.
The Maid in her white wedding garment is cloth'd,
And she enters the church, and she meets her betroth'd.
The Necken he rode to the church tower so grey,
And he fastened his steed to the ancient church key.
SWEDISH BALLADS. 155
And the Necken passed down thro' the old pillar'd aisles
And the fair maiden met him with tears and with smiles.
The priest at the altar with smooth solemn brow
Marks the air of the stranger — Sir Knight who art thou ?
Where wert thou begotten and where wert thou born ?
Where got thou the robes that thy person adorn ?
And I was begotten and born, quoth he,
And mine, only mine, are the robes that you see.
Away to their homes are the villagers gone,
The Bride with the Bridegroom remaineth alone.
Thy father, thy mother, thy brother, thy friends ?
Where be they ? — I fear what thy silence portends.
My father and mother the blue billows be,
And my friends are the wild sedge that grows by the sea.
O God ! must I dwell in the wild waves below
While the blithe- hearted fisherman over us row ?
Yes — yes — in the billows so cold and so pale,
While the seamen so joyously over us sail.
The Necken took hold of her sweet yellow hair,
He bound to his saddle the maiden so fair.
And loudly she shrieked, and the heart-broken wail
Was born o'er the land on the wings of the gale.
They sought the fair maid in the highways all round,
And nought but her gold-buckled slippers they found.
They sought the fair maid in the waterfalls dark —
They found her — a corpse, pallid, withered, and stark.
LINDEN.
Och Jungfrun hon gangar i rosendelund,
Der fick hon se standande sa fager en Lind.
Den allri'n'gm sorg fordrefva kunde.
" Har standar du Lind sa fager du aj,
Med forgyllande blader, som du ocksa bar.''
" Det ar val inte at att du sa rosar mig,
For lyckan ar battre for dig an for mig.
I morgon komma friare, som fria till dig ;
Och da komma timmerman, som skada uppa mig.
Sa hugga de mig till en Altarespang,
Der mangen grofver syndare skall hafva sin gang.
" Sa hugga de mig till ett Altaretia,
Des mangen grofver syndare skall falla pa kn'a."
" Och ka'ra du Lind, emedan du kan tala ;
Aer ingen i verlden till som dig kan hugsvala ?
Och ingen ar i verlden som mig kan hugsvala j
Forutan Kung Magnus, den jag aldrig med far tala.
156 SWEDISH BALLADS.
Och Jungfrun hon satte sig neder att skrifva ;
Ack ! hade jag nagon, sorn det brefvet kunde fora.
Shax kom det der fram en falk sa gra ;
Jag for val det bref till Kung Magnus's gard
Och Falken tog brefvet allt i sina klor,
Sa latt flyger han dit Kung Magnus han bor.
Kung Magnus tog brefvet ur Falkens klor,
Sa hateliz liiste han hvart endaste ord.
,Kung Magnus han talte till tjenarena sa,
J sadlen mig strax upp gangaren gra.
J sadlen mig strax upp rinnaren rod,
For jag skall rid' och fralsa min stackers fastemo.
Kung Magnus han satte sig pa rinnaren rod,
Sa red han litet fortare an falken han flog.
Kung Magnus foil nod allt uppa sina kna,
Sa Kystte han den Jungfrun i Lindetr'ad.
Kung Magnus foil ned f6r Jungfruns fot,
Sa kyoste han henne pa Linderot.
Kung Magnus tog Linden allt uti sin famn,
Sa fager en Jungfrun af henne upprann.
Kung Magnus lyfte Jungfrun pa gangaren gra,
Sao red han med henne allt uppa sin gard.
Kung Magnus han satte den Jungfrun pa sitt knii,
Och guf'na gullkronan och fastningen med.
THE LINDEN.
And the maiden she walks where the red roses blow,
There sees she a Linden most beauteously grow.
Oh ! there's no one to cure me of sadness.
Here standest thou, Linden tree, blooming and fair,
With the gold-gleaming leaves which thy bright branches bear.
Oh ! there's, 8fC.
Ah ! maiden, sweet maiden, why praise ye me so ?
For thou art most happy, while I am in woe.
To-morrow come suitors to claim thy white hand ;
To-morrow come woodmen my life to demand.
They will hew me to pieces to make them a stairs
To the altar, where sinners gasp sorrowful prayers.
They will hew me to pieces to make them a shrine,
Where penitents kneeling seek mercy divine.
O Linden, dear Linden, and since thou canst speak,
Is there none on this broad earth whose aid thou wouldst seek ?
Oh ! there's none on this broad earth whose aid I could seek
But King Magnus, with whom I can ne'er hope to speak.
And the maiden sat down, and a letter she penn'd, —
Oh ! had I to bear it some trustworthy friend !
THE EMIGRANT. 157
When straight there came flying a falcon so grey ;—
To the halls of King Magnus I'll bear it to-day.
Then away with the letter the grey falcon flew,
Till the halls of King Magnus rose up on his view.
The King took the letter and hastily read,
And his cheeks grew as pale and as cold as the dead.
Then out spake King Magnus — Up, saddle my steed
With the grey flowing mane and the fetlocks of speed.
The red-coated courser, quick, saddle for me,
Away, and away, till my true love is free.
King Magnus leaped up on his courser so red,
And fleeter by far than the falcon he fled.
King Magnus he came, and he fell on his knee,
And kiss'd the young maid in the fair linden tree.
King Magnus knelt down at the light maiden's foot,
And kiss'd her again in the linden tree's root.
Then the King to his heart the fair linden tree press'd,
And a Virgin most beautiful blush' d on his breast.
The King rais'd the Virgin upon his grey steed,
And bore her away to his castle with speed.
And she sat in her state on the knee of the King,
With a crown of red gold, and a gold wedding ring.
THE EMIGRANT.
One evening from a rocky height
I watched the sunbeams' parting light
Lingering o'er the distant sea,
Which then lay slumb'ring tranquilly ;
So calm the hour that on, her breast
The breeze had sigh'd itself1 to rest,
And all around was stillness, save
The murm'ring of the ebbing wave.
Brightly had shone the summer's day $
In golden clouds it passed away ;
When evening mild, with sombre hue,
Shed on the scene soft tears of dew,
In pity to the lovely flowers
Which droop'd beneath those sultry hours.
Soon night's fair queen rose o'er the ma;n
Attended by her starry train,
A distant sail then caught my sight ;
Its outline in the pale moonlight
158 THE EMIGRANT.
Reveal'd its purpos'd destiny ;
Twas bound to plough a foreign sea.
Strolling that morning on the strand,
I saw a boat put off the land
To join that vessel in the bay
Which for some time at anchor lay,
Crowded with emigrants. To sail,
She waited but a favoring gale ;
And while I gaz'd upon its form,
Soon doom'd perhaps to brave the storm,
I thought of that poor boy on deck,
Who clung around his mother's neck
So tenderly, at morning tide
While parting from the vessel's side :
She press'd him to her widow'd breast
Where he had often lull'd to rest.
She held him in a parting fold
To her sad heart, whose pulse was cold,
For he who warm'd it with his smile
Might ne'er again its care beguile.
She wildly kissed his youthful brow
And call'd on Heav'n by pray'r and vow
To take her William to its care
And guard him safe from every snare.
The boat appear'd all ready mann'd,
Its oars were striking off the land,
The youth upon his mother cast
One parting look ; it was his last.
A moment, and the bark was gone,
The wretched parent stood alone,
'Tis thus that many an Irish heart
Is doom'd with all it loves to part —
To leave that darling land of care,
Or stay and break, and perish there.
M. D.
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
ANCESTRY OF LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.
His lordship is second surviving son of the present Duke of Portland. His
mother Henrietta, eldest daughter of the well-known General Scott, of
Balcomie, in Fifeshire, derived, in the female line, from the families of the
famous Scottish worthies, Balliol and Wallace. General Scott was of
very eccentric notions. By his will, he prohibited any one of his daughters
from marrying a nobleman ; and provided that disobedience on this point
should entail a forfeiture of the testamentary bequest. Despite, however,
of this injunction, the three ladies, all became in the sequel peeresses, and
by an arrangement amongst themselves preserved their fortunes : the
eldest, who succeeded to the chief portion of her father's great wealth, mar-
ried the Duke of Portland ; the second, became the wife of Francis, Lord
Doune ; and the third, the widow of the Right Hon. George Canning, was
elevated to the peerage in her own right, at the lamented decease of her dis-
tinguished husband. Under the guidance of that illustrious statesman, who
was thus his uncle by marriage, Lord George Bentinck first entered on public
life ; but he did not long continue at that period to devote himself to political
pursuits. The attractions of the turf engrossed his attention, and it was
not until the great struggle that preceded the abolition of the corn laws that
he gained the leading position he now holds in the parliamentary arena.
Lord George Bentinck was born 27th Feb. 1802, and is unmarried. He
has sat in the House of Commons as member for Lynn Regis, in the represen-
tation of which borough he succeeded his uncle, Lord William Bentinck.
The ducal house of which his lordship is a scion, was founded by William
Bentinck, a Dutch noble, who enjoyed in an eminent degree the favour of
King William III., and was created by his majesty Earl of Portland in 1689.
His lordship had the command of the Dutch regiment of Horse Guards, and
took a distinguished part, as Lieutenant- General, at the battle of Boyne.
He was subsequently invested with the Order of the Garter, and at length
died in 1709, leaving a large family: the eldest son Henry, second Earl,
obtained in 1716, the highest grade in the peerage, being elevated to the
Dukedom of Portland and Marquesate of Tichfield. His Grace died in
Jamaica, of which he was Captain- General and Governor, 4th July 1726,
leaving, with other issue, a son and successor, WILLIAM second Duke, K.G.,
who added considerably to his fortune and influence, by marrying the Lady
Margaret Cavendish Harley, only daughter and heir of Edward, second £arl
of Oxford, by Lady Henrietta Cavendish Holies, his wife, only daughter
and heir of John, first Duke of Newcastle. The paternal grandfather of this
richly portioned heiress, Robert Harley, was the illustrious minister of the
reign of Queen Anne, and her maternal grandfather, the Duke of Newcastle
had the reputation of being one of the richest subjects in the kingdom.
From him has descended to the present Duke of Portland Welbeck Abbey,
Notts, together with the valuable property of Cavendish Square, Holies
Street, and its neighbourhood, so productive at the present day.
The son and heir of the marriage of the second Duke of Portland with
the heiress of the Harleys, the Holies' and the Cavendishes, was William-
Henry, third Duke, K.G., who filled the dignified office of Viceroy of Ire-
160 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
land in 1782, and was twice Prime Minister. He wedded Dorothy, only
daughter of William, fourth Duke of Devonshire, and dying in 1809, was
succeeded by his eldest son, William- Henry Cavendish, the present chief of
the ducal house of Portland.
THE HOUSE OF O'CONOR.
OUR obituary of this month records the death of the O'CoNoa DON, a
gentleman universally esteemed and beloved, in whom vested the represen-
tation of the ancient monarchs of Ireland. From the remotest period, his
ancestors were Kings of Connaught, and in the twelfth century they became
Sovereigns of all Ireland. Tordhellach O'Conor, who ascended the throne
in 1 136, reigned twenty years, and died in 1156, leaving two sons, RODE-
RICK the last monarch of Ireland, and CATHAL Croibh-dearg, or Cathal, of
the Red Hand. Roderick's history is well known. In 1175, his Chancellor
Lawrence O'Toole signed the Treaty of Windsor with King Henry II. of
England, wherein Roderick resigned the supreme monarchy but reserved
to himself Connaught as an independent kingdom. The treaty may be
seen in Rymer's Fcedera. From Roderick's brother, Cathal, descended
in a direct line, the late O'Conor Don. The singular title of "Don," so
constantly used by the successive chiefs of the house, is variously explained.
Some derive it from Tirlagh O'Conor, living temp. Richard II., who was
surnamed Don, or the dark, while others carry up its adoption to the time of
the invasion of Ireland, under Prince Don, the son of Milesius. Certain it
is that for centuries, it has been the invariable designation of the head of the
O' Conors ; and was home as such by the late O'Conor Don. Of the
princely heritage that erst belonged to his royal ancestors, a small tract
alone remained. Spoliation and persecution — the result of loyalty to the
king, and devotion to the ancient faith — gave the final blow to the power of
this illustrious house. Major Owen O Conor, of Belanagare, governor of
Athlone for James II., was taken prisoner by William of Orange, and con-
fined in the Castle of Chester, where he died in 1692, and his nephew and
eventual heir Denis O'Conor of Belanagare, was involved in the troubles and
misfortunes which seemed at that period, the common inheritance of all who
professed the Catholic religion. Suits were instituted for the sequestration
of his paternal estates, and he was happy to preserve a portion by the sacri-
fice of the rest. Though thus left but a small fragment of the once broad
domains of his forefathers — domains, which were [guaranteed by several
solemn and indisputable treaties, — he was still the supporter of all, whose
virtues or distresses had a claim upon his bounty. The traditions of the
country attest his unostentatious benevolence and hospitality, and the effu-
sions of the bards record the virtues of his character. At Belanagare, it
was that Carolan composed the most impassioned of his melodies, and felt
the true poetic inspiration. " I think," said the bard on one occasion,
" that when I am among the% O'Conors, the harp has the old sound in it."
Denis O'Conor's son and successor, CHARLES O'CONOR, of Belanagare, a
learned antiquary, early devoted Lis attention to elucidating the history of
his country, and unfolding the long neglected records of her people ; and
collected, with indefatigable research and labour, the most valuable in-
formation regarding the annals and antiquities of Ireland. He also took a
prominent place amongst those who first struggled for Catholic Emancipation.
Of his grandsons, the eldest OWEN O'CONOR, of Belanagare, succeeded to
the title of Don as head of the family at the decease of his kinsman Alex-
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 161
ander, O' Conor Don in 1820; and the second, Charles O'Conor, D.D.,
chaplain at Stowe, was the erudite author of " Rerum Hibernicarum Scrip-
tores," " Columbanus's Letters," &c. The former, Owen O'Conor Don,
was father of the respected gentleman, whose decease has given rise to the
foregoing remarks.
EDWARD SIXTH LORD DIGBY.
Oh ! Charity ! our helpless nature's pride,
Thou friend to him who knows no friend beside,
Is there in morning's breath, or the sweet gale
That steals o'er the tired pilgrim of the vale,
Cheering with fragrance fresh his weary frame,
Aught like the incense of thy holy frame ?
Is aught in all the beauties that adorn
The azure heaven, or purple lights of morn ?
Is aught so fair in evening's lingering gleam,
As from thine eye the meek and pensive beam
That falls like saddest moonlight on the hill
And distant grove, when the wide world is still ?
Thine are the ample views, that unconfined
Stretch to the utmost walks of human kind :
Thine is the Spirit, that with widest plan
Brother to brother binds, and man to man.
Among the many illustrious families of which our nobility is composed,
that of Digby deserves a prominent position. In the reign of the first Charles,
one of its descendants, the renowned Sir Kenelm, "the ornament of Eng-
land," rendered the name famous throughout the Christian world, and, at
all times, we may trace, in the pages of history, honourable mention of this
eminent house. Edward, sixth Lord Digby, to whom the following interest-
ing narrative refers, was son of the Hon. Edward Digby by Charlotte, his
wife, sister of Henry, Lord Holland, (father of Charles James Fox), and
succeeded to the peerage at the decease of his grandfather in 1752, being
then just of age. The excellence of his disposition and the kindness of
his heart won for him universal esteem ; and few events were more deeply
deplored than his untimely death. Of his active benevolence, a gentleman,
who enjoyed his lordship's regard and friendship, has left the following
anecdote on record : —
"Lord Digby came often to Parliament Street, and I could not help
remarking a a singular alteration in his dress and demeanour, which took
place during the great festivals. At Christmas and Easter he was more
than usually grave, and then always had on an old shabby blue coat. I
was led, as well as many others, to conclude that it was some affair of the
heart which caused this periodical singularity. Mr. Fox, his uncle, who had
great curiosity, wished much to find out his nephew's motive for appearing
at times in this manner, as in general he was esteemed more than a well
dressed man. On his expressing an inclination for this purpose, Major
Vaughan and another gentleman undertook to watch his lordship's motions.
They accordingly set out ; and observing him to go to St. George's Fields,
they followed him at a distance, till they lost sight of him near the Marshal-
sea Prison. Wondering what could carry a person of his lordship's rank
and fortune to such a place, they enquired of the turnkey if such a gentle-
man (describing Lord D.) had not entered the prison ? " Yes, Masters,"
exclaimed the fellow, with an oath, " but he is uot a man, he is an angel ;
1 G2 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.
for he comes here twice a year, sometimes oftener, and sets a number of
prisoners free. And he not only does this, but he gives them sufficient to
support themselves and their families till they can find employment. " This,"
continued the man, " is one of his extraordinary visits. He has but a few
to take out to day." — " Do you know who the gentleman is ?" enquired the
major. " We none of us know him by any other marks/' replied the man,
" but by his humanity and his blue coat."
One of the gentleman could not resist the desire of making some further
enquiries relative to the occurrence from which he reaped so much satisfac-
tion. The next time, accordingly, his lordship had his alms- giving coat on,
he asked him what occasioned his wearing that singular dress ? With a
smile of great sweetness, his lordship told him that his curiosity should soon
be gratified, for as they were congenial souls, he would take him with him
when he next visited the place to which his coat was adapted. One morning
shortly after, his lordship accordingly requested the gentleman to accompany
him on a visit to that receptacle of misery which his lordship had so often
explored, to the consolation of its inhabitants. His lordship would not
uffer his companion to enter the gate, lest the hideousness of the place
should prove disagreeable to him ; but he ordered the coachman to drive to
the George Inn in the Borough, where a dinner was ordered for the happy
individuals he was about to liberate. Here the gentleman had the pleasure
of seeing nearly thirty persons rescued from the jaws of a loathsome prison,
at the inclement season of the year, being in the midst of winter, and not
only released from their confinement, but restored to their families and
friends, with some provision from his lordship's bounty for their immediate
support.
Lord Digby went, some few months after these beneficent acts, to visit his
estates in Ireland, where he caught a putrid fever, of which he died in the
dawn of life, November 30, 1757.
Well may we add with the poet ; —
O ye, who list to Pleasure's vacant song,
As in her silken train ye troop along ;
Who, like rank cowards from affliction fly,
Or, whilst the precious hours of life pass by,
Lie slumbering in the sun ! — Awake, arise —
To these instructive pictures turn your eyes,
The awful view with other feelings scan,
And learn from Digby what man owes to man !
His Lordship died unmarried and was succeeded in his honour and estates
jy his brother Henry, father of the present Earl Digby.
THE VEIL OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
THIS Veil, said to be that with which the unfortunate Maiy covered her
head on the scaffold, after the executioner — whether from awkwardness or
confusion is uncertain — had wounded the unhappy victim in the shoulder
by a false blow still exists ; and is still, we believe, in the possession of Sir
John Stuart Hippisley, Bart., whose father, Sir John Cox Hippisley, had an
engraving made from it, by Matteo Dioltavi, in Rome, 1818, and gave
copies to his friends.
The Veil is embroidered with gold spangles by (as it is said) the Queen's
own hand, in regular rows, crossing each other, so as to form small ^squares,
FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 163
and edged with a gold border, to which another border has been subsequently
joined, in which the following words are embroidered in letters of gold —
" Velum Serenissimse Marise, Scotise et Gallise Reginse Martyris, quo
induebatur dum ab Heretica ad mortem injustissimam condemnata fuit :
Anno Sal. MDLXXXVI. a nobilissima matrona Anglicana diu conservatum
et tandem, donationis ergo Deo et Societati Jesu Consecratum."
On the plate there is an inscription, with a double certificate of its authen-
ticity, which states that this Veil, a family treasure of the expelled house of
Stuart, was finally in possession of.the last male representative of that Royal
House, the Cardinal of York, who preserved it for many years in his private
Chapel, among the most precious relics, and at his death bequeathed it to
Sir J. C. Hippisley, together with a valuable Plutarch, and a codex with
painted (illuminated) letters, and a gold coin struck in Scotland in the reign of
Queen Mary ; and it was especially consecrated by Pope Pius VII. in his
Palace on the Quirinal, April 29th, 1818.
Sir J. C. Hippisley during a former residence at Rome, had been very intimate
with the Cardinal of York, and was instrumental in obtaining for him, when
he with the other Cardinals emigrated to Venice in 1 798, a pension of £4,000
a year from the Prince of Wales (afterwards George the Fourth) ; but for
which, the fugitive Cardinal, all whose revenues were seized by the French,
would have been exposed to the greatest distress. The Cardinal desired to
requite this service by the bequest of what he considered so valuable.
According to a note on the plate, the Veil is eighty-nine inches long,
(English) and forty-three broad, so that it seems to have been rather a kind
of shawl or scarf than a Veil. If we remember rightly, Melville in his
Memoirs, which Schiller had read, speaks of a handkerchief belonging to
the Queen, which she gave away before her death, and Schiller founds upon
this anecdote the well-known words of the farewell scene, addressed to
Hannah Kennedy.
" Accept this handkerchief ! with my own hand
For thee I've work'd it in my hours of sadness
And interwoven with my scalding tears :
With this thoul't bind my eyes."
Sir John S. Hippisley descends from John Hippisley, Esq. of Yattan,
Recorder of Bristol in the reign of Edward VI., of a different family, we
apprehend, from that of Camley, from which spring the Hippisleys of Stone-
Easton, co. Somerset, the Hippisleys of Lamborne, Berks, and the Hippis-
leys of Stanton, Wilts. ROBERT HIPPISLEY TRENCHARD, ESQ., the late
representative of the Stanton branch, married twice : by his first wife he
had a son, who d. s.p. and a dau. : Ellen m. 1st to John Ashfordby, Esq.,
and 2ndly to John Long, Esq. of Preshaw : and by his second, he left a
son, Gustavus Mathias Hippisley, Esq., who m. Ellen, dau. of Thomas
Fitzgerald, Knight of Glin, and died in 1831, leaving issue, 1st, Gustavus
Alexander Butler Hippisley ; 2nd, Robert Fitzgerald Hippisley, Lieut. R.N.
d. unm. ; 3rd, Charles James Hippisley, Lieut. R.N. ; 4th, Augustus John
Hippisley; 1st, Ellen Georgiana : and 2nd, Jane Augusta, m. to W.J. Richard-
son, Esq.
THE OPERA.
JENNY LIND continues her career of unparalleled success at Her Majesty's
Theatre, and of course the house is still crowded night after night to suffo-
cation ; thus, too, we think it would be, were the enchantress to remain for
months and months to come. So powerful has been the attraction that no
other place of dramatic entertainment in London has been able to make way
except the French Theatre, which the genius of Rachel has now rendered
great in public favour. This proves how true it is that talent — real, indispu-
table, surpassing talent, of whatever character or clime, is sure to reign tri-
umphant over the mind of this mighty metropolis. We shall speak further
of Rachel immediately ; we now return to Jenny Lind. Her newest and
latest wonder has been her performance in Verdi's opera composed expressly
for her Majesty's Theatre, entitled " I Masnadieri." This lyric production
was represented for the first time on the evening of Thursday the 22nd
July, and met with complete success. Verdi himself conducted the orches-
tra, and his presence was hailed with rapturous applause.
" I Masnadieri," as its title infers, is a brigand story, and is founded on
the Robbers of Schiller, the plot of which, the Italian libretto closely and
cleverly follows. The cast of the principal characters is this :
Carlo Moor Gardoni.
Francesco Moor Coletti.
Massimiliano Moor Lablache.
Moser Bouche.
Arminio Corelli.
Amalia Jenny Lind.
The Times has given so remarkably clear and curiously elaborate an ac-
count of the course of the incidents and music in "I Masnadieri' that we
cannot do better than extract it here.
" The opera" says the critic of the Times " commences with an instru-
mental prelude in which there is a violoncello solo. The curtain rises and
discovers Carlo in a tavern on the confines of Saxony. He is reading Plu-
tarch, and expresses his disgust at the degeneracy of his own age, in a re-
citative imitated from the same situation in Schiller. At this time he has
written home for his father's forgiveness, and expresses in a tender cavatina
(" Oh mio Castel Paterno'') accompanied by the wind instruments, the joy
he anticipates from revisiting the place of his birth. The troop of his com-
rades enter with a letter, which contains a refusal of the pardon. On be-
holding Carlo's despair, they agree to form a troop of robbers and elect him
for their leader. The scene terminates with Carlo's caballetta, in which he
vents his rage and despair, and is joined by the chorus. We are now re-
moved to the castle of the Moor family, and find Francesco, the younger
son, expressing his impatience at his father's long life now he has got rid of
his elder brother. He sings an aria with violoncello accompaniments, fol-
lowed by a spirited cabaletta, after he has plotted with Arminio (Italian for
" Herman,") that the latter shall disguise himself as a soldier, and make
a false statement of Carlo's death. The chamber of the old Count Massi-
miliano Moor is then discovered. He is sleeping, and his niece Amalia, the
betrothed of Carlo, is watching. After a prelude of flute, oboe, and clari-
onet and a recitative accompanied by these instruments, comes a light cava •
THE OPERA. 165
tina by Amalia, " Lo aguardo avea," the words of which are taken from
Schiller's Schon ure Engel. This is followed by a duet between Amalia and
the older Moor ; and the act terminates with a quartet, consequent upon the
entrance of Francesco and Arminio with the news of Carlo's death. The parts
taken by the several personages indicate their various characters ; and the
orchestral accompaniments are so distributed as to illustrate the different
passions. The act drops upon the apparent death of the count, who is over-
come with grief at the melancholy news. These incidents in the castle be-
long to Schiller's act.
" The opening portion of the second act of the opera is taken from Schil-
ler's third, with considerable alteration. The first scene represents an en-
closure near the castle chapel, where Amalia approaches the tomb of old
Moor. A chorus behind the door indicates the joy of Francesco on suc-
ceeding to his father's estate, while Amalia, on the stage sings an aria, the
adagio of which is accompanied by the harp solo, and is followed by a bril-
liant cabaletta, introduced by the news, brought by Arminio, that Carlo still
lives. Then comes the offer of love by Francesco, and his rejection of
Amelia, which forms the subject of a duet. A scene in the forest follows.
It opens with the incidents connected with the rescue of Rolla, one of the
band, and the destruction of Prague, all this part of the action being car-
ried on by the chorus. A romanza, by Carlo, in which he sets forth his
melancholy condition, comes in relief after the general excitement, and the
act terminates with a stretta, consequent upon the arrival of the soldiers who
have surrounded the band. Several incidents of the original play are here
packed closely together.
" The third act likewise falls into two portions. First, we have the inter-
view between Carlo and Amalia in the forest adjoining the castle, which
gives occasion for a duet. Then we have the interior of the forest, with a
robber chorus, founded on the celebrated Stehlen, morden, which once set all
the German students into a blaze of fanaticism. The act ends with the
rescue by the robbers of the old Moor, who, though supposed dead, is still
living, having been imprisoned and concealed by Francesco. In the finale,
the robbers swear that they will avenge the wrongs of their chiefs father.
The theme is proposed by Carlo, and every phrase is repeated by the chorus.
This subject, which is first in the minor, goes with a crescendo into the
major, accompanied by the whole force of the orchestra.
" The fourth act opens with the terror of the conscience- stricken Fran-
cesco after his horrible dream. He has a descriptive aria, and on the en-
trance of the pastor comes a duet, in which the reverend man utters his
pious menaces, and Francesco prays, while the voices of the robbers who
are attacking the castle are heard behind the scenes. The pastor is in uni-
son with the trombones, and Francesco is accompanied by a tremolo on the
violins, while the robbers are sustained by the whole mass of the orchestra.
A duet between Carlo and his father, and a trio, in which the robbers join,
and in which Amalia dies by the hand of Carlo, terminates the opera."
All the singers engaged exerted themselves with creditable energy and
evident effect, but, as might be expected, Jenny Lind was the soul of this
opera. The production has many inherent merits, but her unsurpassable
voice at once achieved its prosperity.
Taglioni is now at Her Majesty's Theatre, and still maintains her pre-
eminence as the divinity of dancing. The management appears determined
to terminate, as spiritedly as it has carried on, this magnificent season.
1G6 THE THKATKES.
THE FRENCH THEATRE.
RACHEL.
MLLE. RACHEL, the greatest of living tragedians, has, as usual with her,
converted the St. James's Theatre, previously the arena of vaudeville and
melodrama, into a temple of the strict and stately classic drama. The
works of Corneille, Racine, Voltaire, and their modern imitators (a suhject
we discussed in last month's Patrician), now become as familiar with the
public, as those of cur own immortal Shakespeare. How admirably are
those classic plays of France represented at the St. James's Theatre ! The
faults they undeniably possess sink unnoticed before the surpassing genius
of Rachel. Length of speechifying, pomposity of diction, and want
of action are no longer perceived, for, the enchantress has infused her
spirit into the poetry ; she may be compared to the sun bursting, in its
glory upon the glassy expanse of some large and lordly lake : the aspect,
though grand, was chill and inanimate before : it is now on fire, dazzling
and sparkling in its brilliancy. Mile. Rachel has appeared in Les Horaces,
Phe'dre, Marie Stuart, Andromaque, Virginie, and Tancrede. The style and
excellence of her acting as the heroine in the four first of these tragedies
is now well known : in the last, that of Tancrede by Voltaire, her per-
formance is a novelty. This powerfully written play, to which the cele-
brated opera of " Tancredi" owes its libretto, is one of the chef-d'ceuvres
of its author : it is replete with beautiful verse, and is thoroughly chival-
rous in sentiment and story. Of Tancrede, M. Schlegel, no friend to
Voltaire and the classic drama, speaks thus in his celebrated lectures :
" Since the Cid no Frtnoh tragedy had appeared, of which the plot was
founded on such pure motives of honour and love without any ignoble in-
termixtures, and so completely consecrated to the exhibition of chivalrous
sentiments, as Tancrede. Amenaide, though honour and life are at stake,
disdains to exculpate herself by a declaration which would endanger her
lover ; and Tancred, though justified in esteeming her faithless, defends her
in single combat, and seeks in despair the death of a hero, when the unfor-
tunate error clears up. So far the piece is irreproachable, and deserving of
the greatest praise. But it is weakened by other imperfections. It is of
greatdetriment to its perspicuity, that we cannot at the very first hear the
letter without superscription, which occasions all the embarrassment, and
that it is not sent off before our eyes. The political disquisitions in the first
act are tedious ; Tancrede appears in the third act for the first time, and he
is impatiently expected to give animation to the scene. The furious impre-
cations of Amenaide at the conclusion are not in harmony with the deep
but soft emotion with which we are overpowered by the re-union of two
lovers, who have mistaken each other, in the moment of their separation by
death."
The imperfections M. Schlegel speaks of appeared not in the representa-
tion of the St. James's Theatre : had he listened to Rachel, he would no
longer have complained of the imprecating language at the conclusion. The
impassioned eloquence of Rachel gave to the passage exquisite effect. Her
exclamation " Tancrede, cher Tancrede" as she threw herself on the body
of the beloved and expiring knight will not be soon forgotten by those who
heard it. Her acting throughout the whole tragedy was admirable : Amenaide
is by her personified to the life — the high born damsel of an age of chivalry,
THK THEATRES. !(>/
haughty and ardent, yet gentle and benevolent, unbending in her notions of
honour, and boundless in her affection. At the beginning of the play where
occurs the following speech, the tone of Rachel is replete with force and
dignity :
Ah ! combats ces terreurs,
Et ne m'en donne point. Souviens-toi que ma m£
Nous unit Tun et 1'autre a ses derniers momens,
Que Tancre'de est a moi ; qu'aucune loi contraire
Ne peut rien sur nos vceux, et sur nos sentimens.
Helas ! nous regrettions cette ile si funeste,
Dans le sien de la gloire et des murs des Ce'sars ;
Vers ces champs trop aimes qn'aujourd'hui je d£teste ;
Nous tournions tristement nos avides regards.
J'e'tais loin de penser que le sort qui m'obsede
Me gardat pour epoux 1'oppresseur de Tancrdde ;
Et que j'aurais pour dot Texecrable present
Des biens qu'un ravisseur enl£ve a mon amant.
II faut 1'instruire au moins d'une telle injustice,
Qu'il apprenne de moi sa perte et mon supplice,
Qu'il hate son retour et defende ses droits.
Pour venger un heros je fais ce que je dois.
Ah ! si je le pouvais, j'en ferais davantage.
J'aime, je crains un p£re, et respecte son age ;
Mais je voudrais armer nos peuples souleves
Centre cet Orbasson qui nous a captives.
D'un brave chevalier sa conduite est indigne.
Intdressd, cruel, il pr6tend a 1'honneur !
II croit d'un peuple libre e"tre le protecteur !
11 ordonne ma honte, et mon pere la sigrie !
Et je dois la subir, et je dois me livrer
Au maitre imperieux qui pense m'honorer !
Helas ! dans Syracuse on hait la tyrannic.
Mais la plus execrable, et la plus impunie,
Est celle qui commande et la haine et 1'amour,
Et qui veut nous forcer de changer en un jour.
Le sorte en est jete.
When she hears that Tancred, who has just slain in single combat her op-
pressor, nevertheless listens to the accusations against her, her burst of in-
dignation is truly startling :
AMENAIDB.
Lui, me croire coupable !
FANIK.
Ah ! s'il peut s'abuser,
Excusez un amant.
AMENAIDE.
Rien ne peut 1'excuser. . . .
Quand 1'univers entier m'accuserait d'un crime
Sur son jugement seul un grand homme appuye,
A 1'univers seduit oppose son estime.
II aura done pour moi combattu par pitie !
Cet opprobre est affreux, et j'en suis accablee.
Helas ! mourant pour lui, je mourais consolce ;
VOL. IV. NO. XVI. O
168 THE THEATRES.
Et c'est lui qui m 'outrage et m'ose soupc.onner !
C'en est fait ; je ne veux jamais lui pardonner.
Ses bienfaits sont toujours presens k ma pense*e,
Us resteront graves dans mon ame offensee ;
Mais s'il a pu me croire indigne de sa foi,
C'est lui qui pour jamais est indigne de moi.
Ah ! de tous mes affronts c'est le plus grand peut-etre.
But Tancred is brought wounded to her presence, and in an instant her
anger is forgotten. Rachel with heart rending eloquence, pours forth her
whole affection, and agony : the very soul of a fond and despairing woman
is in her voice :
Tancr^de, cher amant, trop cruel et trop tendre,
Dans nos derniers instans, he'las ! peux-tu m'entendre,
Tes yeux appesantis, peuvent-ils me revoir ?
He'las ! reconnais-moi, connais mon dese&poir.
Dans le meme tombeau souffre au moins ton e*pouse,
C'est-la le seul honneur dont mon ame est jalouse.
Ce nom sacre m'est dti, tu me 1'avais promis ;
Ne sois point plus cruel que tous nos ennemis.
Honore d'un regard ton Spouse fidele. . . .
(il la regarde).
C'est done Ik le dernier que tu jettes sur elle !. . . .
De ton coeur genereux son cceur est-il hai ?
Peux-tu me soup9onner ?
M. de Voltaire nearly ninety years ago produced the tragedy of Tancrede
with the approval of a court and the applause of a people who would tole-
rate nought but the classic drama. Little could he have dreamt that, in
another age, in a foreign land — the very territory of Shakespeare, the same
play would fill a theatre to suffocation, a monarch and her noblesse forming
a portion of the audience. Such a result is owing to that high order of
genius, the attribute of Mile. Rachel, which overcomes all prejudice of time
or country.
Since her performance in Tancrede, Mile. Rachel has agreeably surprised
the public by appearing in comedy ; her success has been equally striking.
She played Celemene in the famous Misanthrope of Moli£re, a master- piece
of wit and satire, from which Sheridan borrowed a great deal of his School
for Scandal. Indeed, Lady Teazle has, in some points, a strong resemblance
to the coquette Celemene.
In conclusion we would observe that Mile. Rachel has been very ably
supported by the other performers of the St. James's Theatre. Raphael
Felix, Marius, and Mile. Rabut are artists fully capable of appreciating,
and expressing the fine verse of the great poets of France.
*#* Among the English theatres now open, the Hayir.arket, the Princess's,
and the Adelphi, of course take the lead. Mrs. Nisbett at the Haymarket,
and Madame Vestris and Mathews at the Princess's are as excellent as ever.
The new drama of " Title Deeds" at the Adelphi is eminently successful,
and, in truth, fully deserves to be so.
169
EXHIBITIONS.
THE BRITISH INSTITUTION, PALL MALL.
THE collection of ancient masters contributed to this admirable insti-
tution, for 1847, is now open, and the display proves as interesting, and
attractive as ever. It comprises sacred pictures, historical portraits, and
landscapes, many of which are already known to fame throughout the
world, and may be looked on with delight, again and again, for ever.
Rembrandt, Rubens, Vandyke, Claude, Cuyp, Vander-Heyden, Reynolds
and Lawrence are here in all their glory. Such paintings need no com-
ment or description : they must be viewed.
HISTORICAL PRIZE PAINTINGS, Chinese Exhibition Room, Hyde Park
Corner, THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST.
Two years ago a public offer was made in the following terms : — ONE
THOUSAND POUNDS are hereby tendered to the Artist who shall produce the
best OIL PAINTING of the BAPTISM OF CHRIST, by immersion in the river
Jordan, to illustrate the statements made by the Evangelists :
MATTHEW iii. 13 — 17.
" Then cometh Jesus from Galilee to Jordan unto John, to be baptised
of him.''
" But John forbad him, saying, I have need to be baptised of thee, and
comest thou to me ?''
"And Jesus answering said unto him, Suffer it to be so now : for
thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness. Then he suffered him."
"And Jesus, when he was baptised went up straightway out of the
water ; and lo the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit
of God descending like a dove, and lightning upon him :"
"And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom
I am well pleased."
MARK i. 9 — 11.
"And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of
Galilee, and was baptised of John in Jordan."
"And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens
opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him :"
" And there came a voice from heaven, saying, Thou art my beloved
Son in whom I am well pleased."
LUKE iii. 21 and 22.
"Now when all the people were baptized, it came to pass, that Jesus
also being baptized, and praying, the heaven was opened,"
" And the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon
him, and a voice came from heaven which said, Thou art my beloved
Son • in thee I am well pleased."
o 2
170 EXHIBITIONS.
And the following lines from the 1st Book of Milton's " Paradise Re-
gained "
' ' I saw
The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising
Out of the water, heaven above the clouds
Unfold her crystal door, &c. — Lines 79 — 85.
Again, Line 288
• "As I rose out of the laving stream."
" It is required that the size of the work shall be not less than 12 feefc
by 12, nor greater than 15 feet by 12, and the two principal figures shall
be at least as large as life; two years to be allowed for the completion
and sending in of the pictures. The competition to be open to artists
of all nations, and the £1000 to be paid to the successful Competitor,
before the close of the Exhibition."
In consequence of this announcement, several paintings were for-
warded to the Picture Gallery, (formerly the Chinese Exhibition Room)
Hyde Park Corner, which was fitted up at great expense for the reception
of them.
This exhibition which is now closed, was visited by Prince Albert, the
nobility, and numbers of the public.
We now refer to it, wishing to call attention to the painting
which has actually won the prize. Before doing so, however, we
cannot but express our satisfaction at a custom which has recently
sprung up, and which has been most creditably fostered by the govern-
ment ; we mean the plan of offering prizes of large value to the com-
petition of artists. Little can people imagine the immense good that is
done by this. Real talent is often modest and retiring to its own depres-
sion and ruin. Unless some public encouragement be given — some im-
petus employed, it may never come forward. The mind that might
conceive, and the hand that might perform a master piece, how fre-
quently,alas! forwant of afield to dare in, linger and perish in obscurity.
The simple means of offering prizes will put an end to this evil at once.
Honour to the spirited individuals who combine to do so ! Through
their aid, genius is unbound, and like the freed eagle, straightways soars
into those lofty regions, the home of its aspirations.
The present instance exemplifies what we say. Many inferior paint-
ings of course came to this exhibition at Hyde Park Corner, but the one
that achieved the premium is a magnificent production. It is the work
of Mr. John Wood. This gentleman had already been successful in
having a picture of his chosen as the altar piece at Bermondsey Church
— the beautiful painting of " the Ascension " now there — and, no doubt,
encouraged by that, he put his whole soul in the present struggle, and
\ve do not hesitate to say that he has done a work of surpassing ex-
cellence. The boldness of design, the depth and richness of tone and
colour, the correctness of drawing both in the landscape and the figures,
and the majestic aspect of the whole, mark Mr. Wood's Baptism of
Christ as emanating from a brain profoundly impressed with know-
ledge and appreciation of the mighty masters of the mightiest school —
the immortal painters of Italy. Much of the manner and the mind of
Raphael Urban, and Sebastian del Piombo hang about this picture of
the Baptism.
EXHIBITIONS. 171
To convey some idea of the grandeur of the composition, and the
extent of Mr. Wood's labours, we give the following detailed description
of his painting.
The point of time chosen in his representation of Christ's Baptism is
immediately after John has suffered Jesus to be immersed by him, just
as he is uttering the words of administration. The Saviour of mankind
is represented in an attitude most favourable for the ceremony, and most
according with the practice said by travellers to be still observed at
baptismal rites by Oriental Christians. On the right of St. John, im-
mediately behind the Saviour, are groups representing Joseph of Ari-
mathea, Nicodemus, Peter and Andrew ; and the more youthful figure
of St. John the Evangelist. On the left of St. John are St. Luke, St.
James the minor, St. Simeon, St. Matthew, St. Thomas, St. Jude and
Judas. In the foreground are figures of persons who have just been
baptized, or who are preparing to be so -, and in the background is seen
a crowd of spectators.
This painting by Mr. Wood is, or at least was recently to be seen at his
residence in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square. We sincerely trust that
its ultimate public destination — the adornment of a metropolitan church,
— may be effected as speedily as possible.
172
>• )£ ?mf •oonnliHit. s .tj
LITERATURE.
tblBK
srto
STORY OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. By the REV. G. R. GLEIG, M.A.
John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1847.
IT was a happy idea of this well known and able writer, to throw into
one small volume the actual events of the battle of Waterloo, so as
to form a tale apart from the rest of history. In the ordinary perusal of
the annals of the time, the reader becomes generally confused, and
fatigued before he encounters the actual details — necessarily somewhat
lengthy — of the fight at Waterloo ; nor can a person easily himself
detach that portion of the political narrative which relates to the battle
alone. Here, however, the difficulty is admirably removed, for, in one
small volume, almost at one view, we have the whole memorable event
with every circumstance attached to it laid plainly before us. What
really adds to the value of the book is the amazing clearness and simpli-
city of its style : a mere child might comprehend it. This is a boon of
no small worth to civilians, when they would read about military mat-
ters, for, in general this portion of history, if at all elaborate, becomes
unintelligible to any but the soldier. Mr. Gleig has indeed made a
simple story of that legend of victory, which must ring in the ears, and
warm the blood of generation after generation, until England is no
more.
This account of the battle is so well knit together that it is rather
difficult to separate any portion of it. The following extract may
however be read with interest as describing, more minutely than usual,
Napoleon's last day at Elba, prior to his alighting again, with the pride
and rapidity of his own eagle, upon the land of France.
" His favourite sister Pauline, bringing other ladies in her train, paid him a visit.
There was much hospitality, with great apparent politeness, at the palace ; and
much talk was held concerning the improvements which he meditated both in
the form and size of his own residence and in the harbour and town. His
guards also he frequently reviewed, and seemed to take as much pleasure in
the exercise as if he had been passing a whole army before him. So passed the
beginning of February, 1815, and on the 26th a grand entertainment was given
iit the palace. Sir Neil Campbell, the English resident in Elba, was not there, for
he had gone in the only cruiser that observed the coast to Leghorn : but the
representatives of Austria and Russia were present, and marked attention was
paid to them. Napoleon walked through the several halls, saluting his guests;
and then, leaving the ladies to do the rest, went about his own business. His
guards, to the number of 1100, had been directed to parade near the quay at
three in the afternoon. They stood under arms till half-past four, when Napoleon
joined them ; and he and they were all on board of ship by seven o'clock in the
same evening. For this facility likewise of troubling Europe, the Allies had left
him, that he had retained at his disposal, a flotilla more than sufficient to transport
his troops to the Continent whenever the desire of doing so should become strong
with him.
'* How he bore himself during that brief voyage — commanding the respect of his
followers by the calmness and self-possession of his manner — is a matter of
history. lie felt from the moment that his foot pressed the deck that the " die
was cast ;" and when, on baffling winds arising, and the little fleet making imper-
LITERATURE. 173
feet way, it was proposed to put back to Porto Ferrajo and await a more favourable
opportunity, he scouted the idea—" Officers and soldiers of my Guard," he said,
"we are going to France;" and the shout of enthusiasm with which the
announcement was greeted, told how well he understood his follower?. They
went to France. They saw a French frigate at a distance, but it neared them
not, and they passed. Napoleon himself answered the hail from the French brig,
which sought to be informed how it fared with the exile of Elba ; and finally he
and all his people made good their landing on the beach of the gulf of St. Juan,
just as the topmasts of the vessels from which they had descended were described
from the quarter-deck of a British sloop of- war. So close was the run of this
extraordinary man's fortune at the commencement of the last act in his public
life, and so resolute the spirit which urged him to enter upon it, and to go through
with it successfully.
Of the actual details of the engagement, the following portion has in
its terrible truth quite the vivid colouring, and intense attraction of
a romance.
" It will be necessary for a moment to look back to the proceedings of the
Prussians, whom we left bringing their troops into action as rapidly as they could,
and though repulsed in an attempt to take possession of Planchenoit. re-forming
their masses and preparing again to push them on the village. It was not exclu-
sively in this direction, however, that Bliicher strove to bring support to his
allies. Along the Wavre road his cavalry was advancing, and gradually falling in
on the left rear of Best's brigade, while lower down, through Smohaiu and La
Haye, other troops, some of them infantry, showed themselves. These mate-
rially strengthened the extreme left of the English line, and being comparatively
fresh, soon entered into the battle. In particular the Prussian artillery proved of
essential service, for the Hanoverian batteries in this direction had expended their
ammunition, and, as the infantry and cavalry came up, they descended into the
ravine, and prepared to move upon the right of the enemy's line. Thus, just at
the moment when the English had repelled the final attack of the Imperial Guard,
when D'Erlon's and Reille's corps were both completely disorganized, when the
French cavalry, mowed down by the fire of infantry and cannon, were powerless
to resist the rush which Lord Uxbridge was about to make upon them, the gallant
Prussians came into plav, and a defeat, already achieved, was converted into anni-
hilation ; for all means of rallying even a rear guard ceased. At the same time
let it be borne in mind, to the honour of the French, that on the extreme right
they still presented a firm and well-arranged front. Lobau's corps was unbroken,
and though over-matched, it faced Billow stoutly. In Planchenoit, likewise, the
Young Guard maintained themselves in spite of Pirch's repeated and desperate
efforts to dislodge them : indeed, the progress made in this direction was very
slow, for the gallant assailants purchased every foot of ground at an expense of
life which was fearful. Still, the knowledge that he was assailed on the flank and
well nigh in the rear could not fail of extinguishing in the mind of Napoleon
whatever ray of hope might have yet lingered there. He cast a hurried glance
over the field of battle. He saw his Guards coming back in wild confusion, and
strewing the earth with their dead He looked round for his cavalry, and beheld
but broken squadrons fleeing for life, yet failing to secure it His guns were
either dismounted or abandoned by the artillerymen, and there was no reserve
on which to fall back. Then it was that the terrible .words escaped him, which
will be remembered and repeated as often as the tale of his overthrow is told .
"Tout est pprdu — sauve qui peut !" was his last order, and turning his horse's
head, he galloped from the field."
" It was now eight o'clock in the evening, or perhaps a little later. The phy-
sical strength of the combatants on both sides had become well nigh exhausted,
and on the part of the English there was a feverish desire to close with the enemy,
and bring matters to an issue. Up to the present moment, however, the Duke
had firmly restrained them. For all purposes of defensive warfare they were
174
LITERATURE.
excellent troops ; the same blood was in their veins which had stirred their more
veteran comrades of the Peninsula, but, as has elsewhere been explained, four-
fifths of the English regiments were raw levies, — second battalions, to manoeuvre
with which in the presence of a skilful enemy might have been dangerous.
Steadily therefore, and with a wise caution, the Duke held them in hand, giving
positive orders to each of his generals that they should not follow up any tempo-
rary success, so as to endanger the consistency of their lines, but return after
every charge to the crest of the hill, and be content with holding that. Now,
however, the moment was come for acting on a different principle. Not by Adam
and Maitland alone, but by the brigades of Omteda, Pack, Kempt, and Lambert,
the enemy had been overthrown with prodigious slaughter, and all equally panted
to be let loose. Moreover, from minute to minute the sound of firing in the
direction of Planchenoit became more audible. It was clear, therefore, that even
young troops might be slipped in pursuit without much hazard to their own
safety, and the Duke let his people go. The lines of infantry were simultaneously
formed, the cavalry mounted and rode on, and then a cheer began on the right,
which flew like electricity throughout the entire extent of the position. Well was
it understood, especially by those who, on a different soil and under a warmer sun,
had often listened to similar music. The whole line advanced, and scenes com-
menced of fiery attack and resolute defence — of charging horsemen and infantry
stern, such as there is no power, either in pen or pencil, adequately to describe.
*' It might savour of invidiousness were I, in dealing with this part of my sub-
ject, to specify particular brigades or regiments, as if they more than others had
distinguished themselves. The case was not so. Every man that day did his
duty— making allowance, of course, for the proportion of weak hearts which
move in the ranks of every army, and seize the first favourable opportunity that
presents itself of providing for their own safety. And probably it will not be
received as a stain upon the character of British troops if I venture to hazard a
conjecture, that in the army of Waterloo these were as numerous as in any which
the Duke of Wellington ever commanded. Accident, however, and their local
situation in the battle necessarily bring some corps more conspicuously into view
than others, and at this stage of the fight Adam's infantry, with Vivian's hussars,
had the good fortune to take in some sort the lead. The former followed up their
success against the Imperial Guard with an impetuosity which nothing could
resist. They left the whole of their dismounted comrades behind them, and
seemed to themselves to be completely isolated, when Vivian's hussars whom
Lord Uxbridge had ordered on, swept pass them. For there was seen on the
rise of the enemy's ascent a body of cavalry collected, which gathered strength
from one moment to another, and threatened ere long to become again formidable.
It was of vital importance that it should be charged and overthrown ere time was
given to render it the nucleus of a strong rear guard ; and against it, by the
Duke's personal command, the hussar brigade was directed. Loudly these rivals
in enterprise and gallantly cheered one another as the British horsemen galloped
past, and both caught a fresh impulse from the movement.
" Adam's brigade moved steadily on ; Maitland's marched in support of it ;
and down from their ' mountain throne' the rest of the infantry moved in succes-
sion. The cavalry came first into play. It was observed, as they pushed on, that
at the bottom of the descent two squares stood in unbroken order. These were the
battalions of the Guard which had been drawn up to support the advance of the
French columns ; and, though, grievously incommoded by the swarms of fugi-
tives which rushed down upon them, t'hey still kept their ranks. A portion
of the cavalry wheeled up and faced them. It is a serious matter to charge a
square on which no impression has been made, and probably Vivian, with all
his chivalry, would have hesitated to try the encounter, had he not seen that
Adam was moving towards the further face of one of these masses with the
apparent design of falling upon it. He did not therefore hesitate to let loose a
squadron of the 10th, which, headed by Major Howard, charged home, and
strove, though in vain, to penetrate. The veterans of the French Guard were
not to be broken. They received the hussars on their bayonets, cut down many
LITERATURE. 175
with their fire, and succeeded in retreating in good order, though not without loss.
Moreover, just at this moment one battery, which had escaped the general confu-
sion, opened upon the flank of Adam's brigade, while another came galloping
across the front of the 18th Hussars, as if seeking some position whence they in
like manner might enfilade the line of advance which the British troops had
taken. But these latter were instantly charged, the gunners cut down, and
the pieces taken ; while the former soon fell into the hands of the 52nd regiment,
which changed its front for a moment, and won the trophy.
" Darkness now began to set in, and the confusion in the French ranks became
so great as to involve, in some degree, the pursuers in similar disorder. The
more advanced cavalry got so completely intermingled among crowds of fleeing
men and horses, that they could neither extricate themselves nor deal their blows
effectually. Moreover, as the night deepened, and the Prussians began to arrive
at the scene of action, more than one awkward rencounter took place, which was
with difficulty stayed. Nevertheless, the pursuit was not checked. Down their
own slope, across the valley, up the face of the enemy's hill, and beyond the
station of La Belle Alliance, the British line marched triumphant. They lite-
rally walked over the dead and dying, the numbers of which they were continually
augmenting. Guns, tumbrils, ammunition waggons, drivers — the whole materiel,
in short, of the dissolved army, remained nTtheir possession. Once or twice
some battalions endeavoured to withstand them, and a particular corps of f grena-
diers a cheval' contrived, amid the wreck of all around, to retain their order.
But the battalions were charged, rolled up, and dissolved in succession, while the
horsemen effected no higher triumph than to quit the Held like soldiers. Still the
battle raged at Planchenoit and on the left of it, where Lobau and the Young
Guard obstinately maintained themselves, till the tide of fugitives from the rear
came rolling down upon them, and they too felt that all was lost. Then came
the Prussians pouring in. Then, too, the Duke, feeling that the victory was won,
caused the order for a general halt to be passed; and regiment by regiment
the weary but victorious English lay down upon the position which they had won.
" It is well known that throughout this magnificent advance the Duke was up
with the foremost of his people. Nothing stopped him — nothing stood in
his way. He cheered on Adam's brigade, and halted beyond its front. He spoke
to the skirmishers, and mingled with them ; till at last one of his staff ventured
to remonstrate against the manner in which he was exposing himself. • You have
no business here, sir/ was the frank and soldier-like appeal ; ' we are getting into
inclosed ground, and your life is too valuable to be thrown away.' ' Never mind,'
replied the Duke ; * let them fire away. The battle's won, and my life is of no
consequence now.' And thus he rode on, regardless of the musketry which
whistled about him. The fact is, that though he had put a machine in motion
which no resistance could stop, he was still determined to superintend its working
to the last moment ; and the further the night closed in, the more determined he
was to observe for himself whatever dispositions the enemy might have made.
Accordingly, keeping ahead of his own line, and mingling, as has just been
stated, with the skirmishers, he pushed on till he passed to a considerable distance
beyond La Belle Alliance, and there satisfied himself that the route was complete.
At last he reined up his horse, and turned him towards Waterloo. He rode, at
this titre, well nigh alone. Almost every individual of his personal staff had
fallen, either killed or wounded. Col. De Lancey, Quartermaster -General, was
mortally wounded; Major-Gen. Barnes, Adjutant- General, was wounded ; Lieut.-
Col. Lord Fitzroy Somerset, Military Secretary, ' had lost his right arm ; and of
his Grace's Aides-de-camp two, namely, Lieut. -Col. the Honourable Alexander
Gordon and Lieut. -Col. Canning, were both struck down. The latter died on the
spot, the former survived his mortal hurt only long enough to learn from the
chief whom he served and dearly loved, that the battle was going well. Indeed,
the losses that day to England, and to the best of English blood, were terrible.
Lord Uxbridge, as is well known, was struck by one of the last shots fired, and
suffered amputation of the leg. Picton, the hero of a hundred fights, was gone
whither alone his glory could follow him. But it is as useless to enumerate the
176 LITERATURE.
brave who purchased with their lives this day a renown which can never perish,
as it would be idle to attempt a description of the feelings of the survivors.
May every one, who doats on England's fame, be he in his school, his
manly, or his slippered days, read and re-read this story of Waterloo.
WAYFARING SKETCHES AMONG THE GREEKS AND TURKS, and on the
Shores of the Danube, By a Seven Years' Resident in Greece. Chap-
man and Hall. 186, Strand. 1847.
WE must confess we have a predilection for an Eastern book. Let
oriental narratives and descriptions multiply as they may, there is ever
something new to tell, something marvellous to hear about the land of
the cypress and myrtle. The author of the work before us has the ad-
vantage of a long residence amid the Greeks and Turks ; and he evi-
dently speaks with the firm tone and clear conception of one who is
thoroughly conversant with his subject. The work contains a fund of
entertainment and instruction. There pervades too a religious feeling
throughout which leads to some very impressive writing about the
present moral degradation of the Turks. The religion of the Mussul-
man is thus deprecated :
" Mahomedanism is hourly opening out into a new aspect before me. I had
imagined it but a low, degraded creed, one of the numerous offsprings of prolific
error ard ignorance, which, as a substitute for the truth that has not yet dawned
upon them, could not have a better or a worse effect in its moral influence, on
the great multitude, than any other vain superstition ; but from the conversation
of those whom I meet here, and who are well qualified to judge, and from a
closer view of its palpable working, not as seen in the history of past ages, but
on the hearts and minds of the individuals with whom I am actually in contact
every day, I cannot but think, that it was originally a deeply-laid scheme, carried
out with an almost fiend-like knowledge of the human heart, for enthralling the
people by working solely on their evil passions. Most other religions, however
much they may have fallen from their common origin in man's instinctive con-
sciousness of the Supreme, have at least for their ultimate aim and end the moral
improvement of man; whereas the system of Llamism would seem in every*
doctrine and in every law to foster and bring forth their worst propensities, pre-
senting even the heaven for which their purer spirit is to strive under images so
earthly, that the very hope itself degrades them to the lowest level of mankind ;
and satisfying the conscience that goads their fallen nature to arise, with a few
material and unmeaning observances, strong onlv in their strictness.
" It is thus at least that Mahomedanism appears in this country ; elsewhere it
may be, and I have heard that it is, otherwise ; a religion not divine must neces-
sarily have different results according to the character and peculiarities of the
people on whom it acts, like the practical working of any other system. Assur-
edly it has found here a fair field, if its object were to brutalize the people and
paralyse their higher faculties ; for I become daily more convinced than in none
have the last traces of that image in which man was created been more utterly
effaced than in the Turks, notwithstanding the strong prepossession in favour of
this people which exists in Europe, and which I fully shared till I found myself
face to face with them in their own country, and in their true colours."
Some of the writer's adventures are related with much ani nation.
The following account of a stormy night on the Black Sea is well
'told :—
" We were destined, however, to a yet more unfavourable reception. As we
got fairly out of sight of land, every thing grew ominous of coming warfare.
Just at nightfall a vivid flash of lightning suddenly tore asunder the huge black
curtain which seemed to hang motionless against the sky, and from the vast rent
LITERATURE 177
the liberated tempest came thundering forth, all fire and fury, and rushed howling
over the agitated sea, maddening the convulsed waters till spray, and foam, and
rain, became one wild confusion, and our little vessel shook and shivered as the
billows wreathed themselves around it, and dashed down raging on its deck. A
scene more fiercely desolate could not well be conceived ; the mournful howling
of the wind, and the roaring of the ocean, whose breast it was tearing up, made a
savage music altogether which was as awful as it was sublime ; and the violent
pitching of the ship rendered it scarce possible to distinguish the black flying
rack above from the yet blacker mass of surge below When matters came to
this crisis, of course all went below, excepting the motionless Turks ; and cer-
tainly if the storm were sublime above, it was most ludicrous in its eflfects down
stairs. There was a continued and involuntary polka dancing on the part of the
most sedate passengers, chairs and tables careering frantically to and fro with a
confused din, consisting of lamentations in Turkish, anathemas in Greek, angry
mutterings of misery in French, abrupt and comprehensible groans in German,
and over all the piteous voice of Kentucky, giving a pretty good guess that he
had never been so wretched before.
" From the ladies' cabin (which I entered head foremost, after having been
thrown down stairs by one lurch of the vessel, violently flung under the table in
the saloon by another, and jerked out again before any one had time to help me),
every article of furniture had been removed ; and mingled invocations to St.
Nicholas and the prophet, rose from various agitated heaps in the several corners.
After knocking my head on the four sides of the room, I was precipitated iiito a
berth, where I was destined to pass the night, clinging to the wall lest I should
fall out, and be compelled to continue this violent exercise.
" The storm never abated during the interminable hours, till daylight, and al-
though I do not suppose any one slept in the whole vessel, the sufferers at last
became quite passive, and nothing was to be heard but an occasional groan ; di-
rectly below me, an unfortunate lady was extended on a mattress on the floor,
which was inlaid with polished wood ; every time the vessel rolled, the mattress
and its burden slid down the room to the opposite wall, where the lady received
a violent blow on the head, and then, as the ship righted again, returned slowly
to their place. There was a species of fascination in this slow torture, which
occupied me the whole night ; and such was the state to which we were all re-
duced, that although the lady who thus helplessly acted the part of a living
pendulum, was my own mother, I lay composedly watching her sail away to the
other side, and waited till she should come back and knock her head, without
even making an effort to relieve her. Daylight brought no improvement in our
position, and I alone had strength enough left to creep up on deck. I managed
to crawl round to offer my assistance to the inmates of the respective berths
before I left the room ; but I received no other answer from any, than an entreaty
that I would put a speedy termination to their existence. I could not adopt so
violent a measure, though I felt that my own demise would have been a relief,
so I left them to their miseries, and with much difficulty crept up on deck, where
I was dragged to a pile of cushions laid out for me by a sailor, and there I sunk
to move no more all day, catching a glimpse in my passage across the deck of the
compact mass of turbans waving to and fro, with an instinctive consciousness
that each individual Turk was sea-sick.
" The scene was not the less dreary that the light of day had risen over it,
'and a cold, piercing blast shriek most dismally among the sails, which they had
vainly put up to try and steady the sh p. Throughout the whole of that long day
it continued thus. None of the other passengers came from below, and as I lay
half asleep, half awake, on the deck, every now and then the scenes we had been
in the midst of, only yesterday, rose up before me ; the golden city sparkling in
sunshine, the bird peopled gardens, the soft rippling waters; till a great cold
wave, plunging into the vessel, and drenching me with foam, recalled me to the con-
trasted reality, and showed me the black, boiling sea, and wild tempestuous sky.
11 In the afternoon, we lay to for half an hour, opposite to the town of Varna,
so celebrated in the Balkan war, as having stood a siege of six mouths against an
enormous Russian force. It is so stormy a roadstead that I could only obtain a
glimpse of it by clinging to the side of the ship for a few minutes as we reeled
178 LITERATURE.'
to and fro, but this cursory glance was sufficient to show me so poor and
wretched-looking a town, that I could not conceive how a single troop of cavalry
should not have been sufficient to demolish it at once ; yet I am told that this
immense army, which though it sustained considerable loss in the march across
the Balkan, had yet an enormous force, sat down before it for many months.
" There were several Russian vessels lying round us, with all their rigging
seemingly in the trimmest order, but I knew how far to trust to the flourishing
appearance which Russia gives to all her naval appurtenances, from a little cir-
cumstance which occurred not long since in Athens. We had gone on board of a
Russian corvette, and had greatly admired, not only the neatness and order
everywhere displayed, but the attention which seemed to be bestowed on the
comfort of the sailors, as their neat hammocks were all ranged round the deck
just as in an English ship. Shortly after, a Russian lady, a friend of ours, went
a voyage in this same ship, and returned long before the time she had originally
intended, because she was so utterly disgusted with the misery and ill-treatment
of the unfortunate crew. The hammocks were a mere sham got up for show,
and her description of the want of cleanliness and comfort, and the barbarous
punishments daily administered, was most dreadful. The wind became favour-
able as soon as we left Varna, but the night was not the less tempestuous ? and I
was very glad there was nothing to be seen before the darkness set in, as it was
quite impossible to stand upright.
This volume is a valuable addition to the many, but not too many
books already written about the East.
THE TRUE STORY OF MY LIFE : a Sketch by HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
Translated by MARY HOWITT. Longman & Co. 1847.
A DELIGHTFUL little book, written with the whole fine soul, and sterling
sentiment of that excellent author, Andersen the Dane. The transla-
tion, like indeed all those of Mrs. Howitt, is most gracefully done. She
thus dedicates the work :
"To JENNY LIND, the English Translation of the True Story of her Friend's
Life is inscribed in admiration of her beautiful talents and still more beautiful
life, by MARY HOWITT.
We pass at once over the other parts of this interesting book, to
present from it the following account of the Swedish Nightingale, which
must prove acceptable to every reader :
" At this period of my life, I made an acquaintance which was of great moral
and intellectual importance to me. I have already spoken of several persons and
public characters who have had influence on me as the poet ; but none of these
have had more, nor in a nobler sense of the word, than the lady to whom I here
turn myself; she, through whom I, at the same time, was enabled to forget my
own individual self, to feel that which is holy in art, and to become acquainted
with the command which God has given to genius.
" I now turn back to the year 1840. One day in the hotel in which I lived in
Copenhagen, I saw the name of Jenny Lind among those of the strangers from
Sweden. I was aware at that time that she was the first singer in Stockholm. I
had been that same year, in this neighbour country, and had there met with hon-
our and kindness : I thought, therefore, that it would not be unbecoming in me
to pay a visit to the young artist. She was, at this time, entirely unknown out of
Sweden, so that I was convinced that, even in Copenhagen, her name was know
only by a few. She received me very courteously, but yet distantly, almost
coldly. She was, as she said, on a journey with her father to South Sweden, and
was come over to Copenhagen for a few days in order that she might see this
city. We again parted distantly, and I had the impression of a very ordinary
character which soon passed away from my mind.
" In the autumn of 1843, Jenny Lind came again to Copenhagen. One of my
LITERATURE.
179
friends, our cleverjballet-m aster, Bournonville, who has married a Swedish lady,
a friend of Jenny Lind, informed me of her arrival here and told me that she re-
membered me very kindly, and that now she had read my writings. He entreated
me to go with him to her, and to employ all my persuasive art to induce her to
take a few parts at the Theatre Royal ; I should, he said, be then quite enchanted
with what I should hear.
" I was not now received as a stranger ; she cordially extended to me her hand,
and spoke of my writings and of Miss Fredrika Bremer, who also was her affec-
tionate friend. The conversation was soon turned to her appearance in Copen-
hagen, and of this Jenny Lind declared that she stood in fear.
" ' I have n*ver made my appearance/ said she, ' out of Sweden; every body
in my native land is so affectionate and kind to me, and if 1 made my appearance
in Copenhagen and should be hissed ! — I dare not venture on it !'
" I said, that I, it was true, could not pass judgment on her singing, because I
had never heard it, neither did I know how she acted, but nevertheless I was con-
vinced that such was the disposition at this moment in Copenhagen, that only a
moderate voice and some knowledge of acting would be successful ; I believed
that she might safely venture.
" BoumonviUe's persuasion obtained for the Copenhageners the greatest en-
joyment which they ever had.
" Jenny Lind made her first appearance among them as Alice in Robert le
Diable — it was like a new revelation in the realms of art, the youthfully fresh
voice forced itself into every heart ; here reigned truth and nature ; every thing
was full of meaning and intelligence. At one concert Jenny Lind sang her
Swedish songs ; there was something so peculiar in this, so bewitching ; people
thought nothing about the concert room ; the popular melodies uttered by a
being so purely feminine, and bearing the universal stamp of genius, exercised
their omnipotent sway — the whole of Copenhagen was in raptures. Jenny Lind
was the first singer to whom the Danish students gave a serenade : torches blazed
around the hospitable villa where the serenade was given : she expressed her
thanks by again singing some Swedish songs, and I then saw her hasten into the
darkest corner and weep for emotion.
" * Yes, yes/ said she, * I will exert myself; I will endeavour, I will be better
qualified than I am when I again come to Copenhagen.'
" On the stage, she was the great artiste, who rose above, all those around her ;
at home, in her own chamber, a sensitive young girl with all the humility and
piety of a child.
" Her appearance in Copenhagen made an epoch in the history of our opera ;
it showed me art in its sanctity— I had beheld one of its vestals. She journeyed
back to Stockholm, and from there Fredrika Bremer wrote to me : — ' With re-
gard to Jenny Lind as a singer, we are both of us perfectly agreed ; she stands
as high as any artist of our time can stand ; but as yet you do not know her iu her
full greatness.j Speak to her about her art, and you will wonder at the expansion of
her mind, and will see her countenance beaming with inspiration. Converse then
with her of God, and of the holiness of religion, and you will see tears in those
innocent eyes ; she is great as an artist, but she is still greater in her pure human
existence !'
" In the following year I was in Berlin ; the conversation with Meyerbeer
turned upon Jenny Lind ; he had heard her sing the Swedish songs and was
transported by them.
" ' But how does she act ?' asked he.
" I spoke in raptures of her acting, and gave him at the same time some idea
of her representation of Alice. He said to me that perhaps it might be possible
for him to determine her to come to Berlin.
" It is sufficiently well known that she made her appearance there, threw every
one into astonishment and delight, and won for herself in Germany a European
name. Last autumn she came again to Copenhagen, and the enthusiasm was in-
credible ; the glory of renown makes genius perceptible to every one. People
bivouacked regularly before the theatre, to obtain a ticket. Jenny Lind appeared
still greater than ever in her art, because they had an opportunity of seeing her
180 LITERATURE.
in many and such extremely different parts. Her Norma is plastic ; every atti-
tude might serve as the most beautiful model to a sculptor, and yet people felt
that these were the inspiration of the moment, and had not been studied before
the glass. Norma is no raving Italian ; she is the suffering, sorrowing woman —
the woman possessed of a heart to sacrifice herself for an unfortunate rival — the
woman to whom, in the violence of the moment, the thought may suggest itself
of murdering the children of a faithless lover, but who is immediately disarmed
when she gazes into the eyes of the innocent ones.
" ( Norma, thou holy priestess,' sings the chorus, and Jenny Lind has com-
prehended and shows to us this holy priestess in the aria, Casta diva. In Copen-
hagen she sang all her parts in Swedish, and the other singers sang theirs in
Danish, and the two kindred languages mingled very beautifully together ; there
was no jarring; even in the Daughter of the Regiment, where there is a deal of
dialogue, the Swedish had something agreeable — and what acting ! nay, the word
itself is a contradiction— it was nature ; anything as true never before appeared
on the stage. She shows us perfectly the true child of nature grown up in the
camp, but an inborn nobility pervades every movement. The Daughter of the
Regiment and the Somnambule are certainly Jenny Lind's most unsurpassable
parts; no second can take their places in these beside her. People laugh,— they
cry ; it does them as much good as going to church ; they become better for it.
People feel that God is in art ; and where God stands before us face to face there
is a holy church.
" ' There will not in a whole century,' said Mendelssohn, speaking to me of
Jenny Lind, e be born another being so gifted as she ;' and his words expressed
my full conviction ; one feels as she makes her appearance on the stage, that she
is a pure vessel, from which a holy draught will be presented to us.
" There is not any thing which can lessen the impression which Jenny Lind's
greatness on the stage makes, except her own personal character at home. An
intelligent and child-like disposition exercises here its astonishing power; she is
happy ; belonging, as it were, no longer to the world, a peaceful, quiet home, is
the object of her thoughts — and yet she loves art with her whole soul, and feels
her vocation in it. A noble, pious disposition like hers cannot be spoiled by
homage. On one occasion only did I hear her express her joy in her talent and
her self-consciousness. It was during her last residence in Copenhagen. Almost
every evening she appeared either .in the opera or at concerts ; every hour was in
requisition. She heard of a society, the object of which was, to assist unfortu-
nate children, and to take them out of the hands of their parents by whom they
were misused, and compelled either to beg or steal, and to place them in other
and better circumstances. Benevolent people subscribed annually a small sum
each for their support, nevertheless the means for this excellent purpose were small.
" ' But have I not still a disengaged evening ?' said she ; * let me give a night's
performance for the benefit of these poor children ; but we will have double
prices !'
" Such a performance was given, and returned large proceeds ; when she was
informed of this, and, that by this means, a number of poor children would be
benefited for several years, her countenance beamed, and the tears filled her eyes.
" ' It is however beautiful/ said she, ' that I can sing so !'
" I value her with the whole feeling of a brother, and I regard myself as happy
that I know and understand such a spirit. God give to her that peace, that quiet
happiness which she wishes for herself !
" Through Jenny Lind I first became sensible of the holiness there is in art ;
through her I learned that one must forget oneself in the service of the Supreme.
No books, no men have had a better or a more ennobling influence on me as the
Ct, than Jenny Lind, and I therefore have spoken of her so long and so warmly
e."
It is rather singular that the author also describes another acquain-
tance,— no less a person than Mademoiselle Rachel, whose genius,
as well as that of Jenny Lind happens just now to have shed its bril-
liant influence over the metropolis.
LITERATURE. 181
" I also have to thank him for my acquaintance with Rachel. I had not seen
her act, when Alexander Dumas asked me whether I had the desire to make her
acquaintance. One evening, when she was to come out as Phedra he led me to
the stage of the Theatre Francais. The representation had begun, and behind
the scenes, where a folding screen had formed a sort of room, in which stood a
table with refreshments, and a few ottomans, sate the young girl who, as an author
has said, understands how to chisel living statues out of Racine's and Corneille's
blocks of marble. She was thin and slenderly formed, and looked very young.
She looked to me there, and more particularly so afterwards in her own house, as
an image of mourning ; as a young girl who has just wept out her sorrow, and
will now let her thoughts repose in quiet. She accosted us kindly in a deep
powerful voice. In the course of conversation with Dumas, she forgot me. I
stood there quite superfluous. Dumas observed it, said something handsome of
me, and on that I ventured to take part in the discourse, although I had a de-
pressing feeling that I stood before those who perhaps spoke the most beautiful
French in all France. I said that I truly had seen much that was glorious and
interesting, but that I never yet had seen a Rachel, and that on her account
especially had I devoted the profits of my last work to a journey to Paris ; and
as, in conclusion, I added an apology on account of my French, she smiled and
said, * When you say any thing so polite as that which you have just said to me,
to a Frenchwoman, she will always think that you speak well.'
" When I told her that her fame had resounded to the North, she declared that
it was her intention to go to Petersburgh and Copenhagen ; f and when I come
to your city/ she said, ' you must be my defender, as you are the only one there
whom I know ; and in order that we may become acquainted, and as you, as
you say, are come to Paris especially on my account, we must see one another
frequently. You will be welcome to me. I see my friends at my house every
Thursday. But duty calls/ said she, and offering us her hand, she nodded kindly,
and then stood a few paces from us on the stage, taller, quite different, and with
the expression of the tragic muse herself. Joyous acclamations ascended to where
we sate.
" As a Northlander I cannot accustom myself to the French mode of acting
tragedy. Rachel plays in this same style, but in her it appears to be nature it-
self; it is as if all the others strove to imitate her. She is herself the French
tragic muse, the others are only poor human beings. When Rachel plays people
fancy that all tragedy must be acted in this manner. It is in her truth and nature,
but under another revelation to that with which we are acquainted in the north.
"At her house every thing is rich and magnificent, perhaps too recherche. The
innermost room was blue- green, with shaded lamps and statuettes of French
authors. In the salon, properly speaking, the colour which prevailed principally
in the carpets, curtains, and bookcases was crimson. She herself was dressed in
black, probably as she is represented in the well-known English steel engraving
of her. Her guests consisted of gentlemen, for the greater part artists and men
of learning. I also heard a few titles amongst them. Richly apparelled servants
announced the names of the arrivals : tea was drunk and refreshments handed
round, more in the German than the French style.
" Victor Hugo had told me that he found she understood the German lan-
guage. I asked her, and she replied in German, " ich kann es lesen ; ich bin ja
in Lothringen geboren ; ich habe deutsche Biicher, sehn Sie hier !' and she
showed me Grillparzer's ' Sappho/ and then immediately continued the conversa-
tion in French. She expressed her pleasure in acting the part of Sappho, and
then spoke of Schiller's ' Maria Stuart/ which character she has personated in a
French version of that play. I saw her in this part, and she gave the last act
especially with such a composure and tragic feeling, that she might have been
one of the best of German actresses ; but it was precisely in this very act that
the French liked her least.
" * My countrymen/ said she, ' are not accustomed to this manner, and in this
manner alone can the part be given. No one should be raving when the heart is
almost broken with sorrow, and when he is about to take an everlasting farewell
of his friends.'
1 82 LITERATURE.
" Her drawing-room was, for the most part, decorated with books \vhicb were
splendidly bound and arranged in handsome book-cases behind glass A paint-
ing hung on the wall, which represented the interior of the theatre in London,
where she stood forward on the stage, and flowers and garlands were thrown to
her across the orchestra. Below this picture hung a pretty little book-shelf,
holding what I call ' the high nobility among the poets/ — Goethe, Schiller, Cal-
deron, Shakspeare, &c.
" She asked me many questions respecting Germany and Denmark, art, and
the theatre; and she encouraged me with a kind smile around her grave mouth,
when I stumbled in French and stopped for a moment to collect myself, that I
might not stick quite fast.
" ' Only speak/ said she. ' It is true that you do not speak French well. I
have heard many foreigners speak my native language better ; but their conver-
sation has not been nearly as interesting as yours. I understand the sense of
your words perfectly, and that is the principal thing which interests me in you.'
" The last time we parted she wrote the following words in my album : ' L'art
c'est le vrai ! J'espere que cet aphorisme ne semblera pas paradoxal a un ecri-
vain si distingue comme M. Andersen/
THE LITTLE COURIER OF THE HOTEL Du GRAND MONARQUE. Printed
at Cologne.
To TRAVELLERS, and many will be travellers now, this pamphlet-shaped
book affords a fund of information upon German railways. Evidently the
production of mine host of the famous hotel of the " Grand Monarque"
at Aachen, he, of course holds forth his own hostelry to public approbation ;
yet as the following account may prove really useful, we do not hesitate
to extract it :
" Aix-la-Chapelle, founded by Charlemagne, famous for the efficacy of its
mineral waters, as well as for the loveliness of its neighbourhood, affords so
agreeable a sojourn to the traveller, that he would regret, not to have spent at
least one day there. As there are every day five trains for Cologne and four for
Belgium, travellers who are in a hurry, may on their arrival at twelve o'clock see
the curiosities of the town before a quarter past one ; when an excellent table
d'hote is served at Mr. Dremel's Hotel du grand Monarque ; there is another table
d'hote at five o'clock, with the best attendance. Travellers, who arrive in the after-
noon, tired by a long railroad journey, may pass a most delightful evening at Aix-
la-Chapelle. After the table d'hote at five o'clock, the Louisberg, a hill, about an
English mile far from the town, is the rendezvous of all foreigners. — From the lofty
terraces of the castle, which is built in the modern style, the most magnificent view
of the town and its picturesque neighbourhood charms the visitor's eye. — Good
roads pass through the whole park, which is shaded by trees, and offers every induce-
ment for walking, or driving and riding. A band plays there every day. — On Thurs-
day, there is great assembly and concert by the military band. It is not unusual to
see two thousand visitors circulate in the spacious saloons, galleries and charming
forests of the Louisberg.
''Through all the season a Balpare is given every Saturday night at the grand
Redoute ; every night grand opera or concert, either at the theatre, or in the
large saloons of the society called Erholuny ; or at the salle of the'grand Redoute,
the pure and grand style of which is justly admired by all travellers.
" Every evening there are supper a la carte and concert at the Hotel du pgrand
Monarque. After supper, society meets again at the Redoute, where Trente and
Quarante and Roulette is played. An elegant reading room, with all German,
English, French, Belgian and Dutch papers, affords entertainment to the visitors.
A fine garden belonging to this establishment is a favourite walking-place, where
shelter is to be found under covered galleries, during rainy weather.
"Concerts, balls, festivals of all kind, follow without interruption. — From seven
LITERATURE. 183
to eight every morning the band plays at the Elisenbrunen, usual gathering place
for drinkers of mineral waters. The military band plays at noon at the theatre
square. The cathedrale, the hotel de ville are monuments of the time of Charle-
magne, and number amongst the most remarkable edifices on the borders of the
Rhine."
DIRECTIONS FOR PLAIN KNITTING : with additions and corrections for
the working Classes and Schools. By RACHEL, JANE CATTLOW. Third
Thousand. Darton and Clarke, Adams and Co:, London. Hyde and
Crewe, Newcastle under Lyme, 1847".
EVERY lady, who has the gracefnl and time-honoured taste of Penelope
should favour this little hut valuable publication. We of course are not pro-
fessed in the ancient mystery and most useful handicraft of knitting ; but
the least learned on the subject may perceive the intrinsic merits of this
pleasing production. Its sale has, too, already reached a third thousand
— a strong proof of its ability ; it fully deserves to number thousands
and thousands to come, for one feature of it is that it adapts itself to the
working classes, and in these industrious days, no cottager ought to be
without it. How many ladies now vie with each other in ornamental
work, and, armed with their needles, perform wonders in the pro-
duction of fanciful decoration. They too may not deem a little knitting
unworthy their attention, though of plain and homely character, for its
utility is great indeed. To them this book will be of service also.
We touch not on its feminine contents, further than extracting the
following quaint address with which the skilful lucubration commences ;
FROM A DAME TO HER SCHOLARS.
" 'Tis seventy years, or thereabouts,
Since I was taught to knit ;
And on a cricket I was placed
By our good dame to sit.
My needles were of wire that bent,
Not like your steel so polished ;
And to my frock a sheath was pinned,
Which now is quite abolished.
A bit of worsted served my turn,
Which twirled and twisted sadly ;
Strutt's good brown cotton, in those days,
Would have been hailed most gladly.
Now your old dame gives this advice
To the rising generation,
That, whilst children are young, they learn to knit,
Whatever may be their station.
I think, if you will give good heed
To the following explanations,
You'll find that your stockings, and socks, and gloves
Will answer your expectations."
VOL. IV. NO. XVI.
184
BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS.
Allfrey, Mrs. Frederick Wra. of a dau. 19th June.
Anson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. T. Anchitel Anson,
of a dau. 2nd July.
Ark wright, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Cliffe House,
Warwick, llth July.
Ashmore, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Paul Ashmore, of
a son, at Nottingham House, Eltham, 5th July.
Atkinson, Mrs, wife of Robt. James Atkinson, Esq.
Assistant Surgeon of Bengal Light Cavalry, of a
dau. at Cawnpore, 2nd May.
Austen, Mrs. Fred. Lewis, of a dau. at Hyde Park-
square, 19th June.
Aylward, Mrs. A. F. of a dau. at Chesham Vicarage,
6th July.
Barlow, Mrs. wife of the late George Barne Barlow,
Esq. of a son, at Great George-street, Westmin-
ster, 19th June.
Beaumont, Mrs. John, of a dau. at West Hill,
Putney, 9th July.
Bedale, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Clapham New Park,
19th July.
Bell, Mrs. Jacob, of a dau. at Hull, 20th June.
Bergman, Mrs. John George, of a dau. at Formosa,
Cookham, Berks, l6th July.
Best, Mrs. H. P. of a son, at the Castle House,
Donnington, Newbury, 27th June.
Birchall, Mrs. wife of Win, H. Birchall, Esq. of a
son and heir at Burley Grange, Leeds, 18th July.
Black, Mrs. wife of Patrick Black, Esq. M.D. of a
son, in Bedford Square, 22nd June.
Blakesley, Mrs. of a son, at Ware Vicarage. Herts,
8th Julyc
Bogie, Mrs. of Rosemount, co. Ayr, of a son, 1st July.
Bonner, Mrs. Charles F. of a son, at Spaldin&r,
4th July.
Bowyer, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Wentworth Bowyer,
of a dau. at Edinburgh, 16th July.
Braithwaite, Mrs. Isaac, of Mechlenburgh Square,
of a sou, 18th July.
Bridgman, Mrs. Frances O. H. of a dau. at Mu-
nich, 29th June.
Bristow, Mrs. of a dau. at Brotmore Park, Wilts,
16th July.
Brown, Mrs. John, of a son, at Marlborough, Wilts,
18th June.
Bryant, Mrs. Walter, of a dau. at Bathurst-street,
13th July.
Brymer, Mrs. John, of a son, at Burgate House,
Hants, 1 6th July.
Butler, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Weeden Butler, of a
dau. at the Vicarage, Wickham-market, Suffolk,
13th July.
Butler, Mrs. Walter, of a dau. at Maida-hill, 20th
June.
Campbell, Mrs. Walter F. of Islay, of a dau. at
Edinburgh, 20th July.
Carey, Mrs. Adolphus F. of a son, at Burbage Hinck-
ley, co. Leicester, 18th July.
Cavendish, the Hon. Mrs. Richard, of a dau. 3rd
July.
Chapman, Mrs. George, of a son, at Arundel-street.
14th July.
Coape, Mrs. James, of a dau. at Mirables, Isle of
Wight, 1st July.
Clarke, Mrs. H. B. of St. John's Wood Road, of a
son, 30th June.
Collet, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. Lloyd Collet, A.M.
of a dau. 3rd July.
Compton, Lady Wm. of a dau. 1st July.
Corbett, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Longnor Hall,
Salop, 1st July.
Cotton, Mrs. wife of the Rev. George Cotton, of a
son, at Rugby, 29th June.
Cox, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. M. Cox, of a son, 'at
East Stoke Rectory, l?th June.
Crokat, Mrs. Charles, of a dau. at Albion-street,
Hyde Park, 21st June.
Crowdy, Mrs. G. F. of a son, at Farringdon, 2nd
July.
Cumming- Gordon, Mrs. Alex. P. of Altyne, of a
son, loth June.
Dacres, Mrs. wife of Captain Sydney C. Dacres,
R. N. of a son, 17th July.
Dale, Mrs. wife of the Rev. H. Dale, of a dau. at
Blackheath, 4th July.
Dallas, the Hon. Lady, of a son, 14th July.
Dalrymple, Mrs. Elphinston, of a dau. at West
Hall, co. Aberdeen, 17th July.
Daniel, Mrs. wife of Dr. Wythe Daniel of Park
House, Southall, of a dau. 3rd July.
Day, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Newick Lodge, IQth
July.
Deane, Mrs. Francis Henry, of a dau. at Westborne
Villas, 4th July.
Dent, Mrs. Thomas of Hyde Park-terrace, of a dau.
9th July.
Donaldson, Mrs. W. Leverton, of a son, 15th July.
Echalaz, Mrs. Fred. A. of a dau. 12th July.
Eck, Mrs. F. A. of a dau. at Valparaiso, 15th Apl.
Edmunds, Mrs wife of E. Edmunds, jun., Esq. of
Bradford, Wilts, of a dau. 13th July.
Farquhar, Lady Mary, of a dau. 13th July.
Faulconer, Mrs. Thomas, of a dau. at Westbourne-
terrace, llth July.
Fletcher, Mrs. James, of a dau. at Chester Square.
29th June,
Forrest, Mrs- wife of James Archibald Forrest, Esq.
5th Fusileers, of a dau. 30th June.
Fowler, Mrs. wife of Lieut. G. C. Fowler, R.N. of
a son, at Woolwich, 21st July.
Francis, Mrs. S. R. Green, of a son, at Cranharn
Place, Easex, 19th July.
Frederick, Mrs. Major General, of a son, at Shaw-
ford, near Winchester, 15th July.
Freebaim, Mrs. J. C. of a son, atBoath near Naine,
14th June.
Freeman, Mrs. Williams, of a son, at Fawley Court,
20th June.
Gaije, the Hon. Mrs. of a dau. at Whitehall Yard,
9Jh July.
Gallini, Mrs. wife of A. Gallini, Esq. of a son at
Donnington Castle Cottage, 10th July.
Gamble, Mrs. wife of Dr. Gamble, of a son,' 2nd
July.
BIRTHS.
185
Giles, Mrs. James, of a son, at Haling Park, Croy
don, 17th July.
Gladstone, Mrs. William, of a dau, at Fitzroy-park,
Highgate. 17th July.
Godby, Mrs. wife of the Rev. C. H. Godby, 2nd
July.
Griffin, Mrs. Alfred, of a son, 2nd July.
Gunnel), Mrs. Burgess, of a son, at Hanwell, 8th
July.
Hamilton, the Lady Claude, of a dau., 3rd July.
Hamilton, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. K. Hamilton,
M.A. of a son, 7th July.
Harden, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. W. Harden, of a
dau. 23d June.
Harford, Mrs. C. R. jun., of a son. 18th June.
Haygarth, Mrs. J. S. of a son, at Redmaston Rec
tory, near Cirencester, 9th July.
Hewitt, Mrs. B. B. of a son at Weymouth-street,
22nd July.
Holden, Mrs. Edward A. of Aston Hall, co. Derby
of a son, 27th June.
Holden, the Hon. Mrs. Drury, of a son, 1st July.
Holland, Mrs, Henry Lancelot, of a dau. 5th July.
Hopper, Mrs. wife of the Rev. E. H. Hopper, of a
dau. at Old Windsor, 26th June.
Home, Mrs. H, of Montague Sq., of a son, 7th July.
Hughes, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Henry Hughes, of
a son, at Gordon Street, 21st July.
Irvine, Mrs. wife of Lt. Col. Irvine, C. B. of a son,
at Kensington, 2nd July.
Jenner, Mrs. Edward F. of a son, at Lowndes St.
25th June.
Johnson, Mrs. Henry, of a dau. at Woodford,
Essex, 19th July.
Jones, Mrs. D. of Pontglase and Penlar, co. Car-
marthen, of a dau. at Baden, 16th July.
Kennaway, Mrs. wife of the Rev. C. E. Kennaway,
of a son, 3rd July.
Kennedy, Mrs. Langford, of a son, 1st July.
King, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at New Cottage
Farm, near Potter's-bar, 17th July.
Kerby, Mrs. George Goldsmith, of a son, at Ken-
sington, 22d June.
Kuper, Mrs. the wife of Capt. Kuper. C.B. R.N. of
a son, 27th June.
Langmore, Mrs. wife of J. C. Langmore, M.B. of
a dau. 8th July.
Lee, Mrs. G. Maclean, of a dau. at Esher, 7th July.
Lee, Mrs. Valentine, of a son, 2nd June.
Lewis, Mrs. Edward, of a son, 15th July.
Lewis, Mrs. Henry, of a son and heir, at Pant-
gwynlas, co. Glamorgan, 21st July.
Little, Mrs. Thomas Selby, of a son, at Worcester,
17th July.
Lovett, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Robert Lovett, of a
dau. 19th July.
Macleane, Mrs. wife of the Rev. A. J. Macleane,
of a dau. at Brighton, 20th July.
Mansfield, Mrs. J. of a dau. at St. Mark's Parson-
age, Swindon, 3rd July.
Martin, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Chancellor Martin, of
twins, a son and a dau. the latter survived only a
short time, at the Close, Exeter, 5th July.
Marryatt, Mrs. Horace, of a son, at Hampton Court
Palace, 18th July.
Milward, Mrs. George, of a son,|at the Manor House,
Lechlade, 3d July.
Mitchell, Mrs. John, of Forcett Hall, co. York, of a
son and heir, 12th July.
Montrose, the Duchess of, of a son and heir, 22nd
June.
Murdoch, Mrs. wife of Clinton Murdoch, Esq. of a
dau. 6th July.
Newington, Mrs. wife of C. E. Hayes Newington,
M.D. of a son, 12th July.
Newton, Mrs. Charles, of a son and heir, at Dais-
ton, 25th June.
Noad, Mrs. David Innes, of a son, at Herne Hill,
12th July.
Norton, Mrs. Henry E. of a son, at Woburn Sq.
21st June.
Ogilvie, Jlrs. wife of G. M. Ogilvie, Esq. of a dau.
at Kensington Garden Terrace, gth July.
j Palmer, Mrs. J. Carrington, of a son, 7th July.
Peacock, Mrs. Anthony, of a son, at Ranceby Hall,
co. Lincoln, 13th July.
Pearse.Mrs. John, of a dau. at Dunstable, 2lst June.
Pennant, the Lady Louisa Douglas, of a dau. 13th
July.
Petley, Mrs. Charles R. C. of a dau. at Riverhead,
Seven Oaks, 15th July.
Peto, Mrs. S. Morton, of a dau. 26th June.
Phipps, Mrs. wife of Lt. Col. the Hon. C. B. Phipps,
of a son, 14th July.
Place, Mrs. wife of Lionel R. Place, Esq. R.N. of
a son, 10th July.
Playfair, Mrs. Lyon, of a dau. at Barnes, 8th July.
Plunkett, Mrs. James, of a son, at Tavistock Square,
6th July.
Ricardo, Mrs. Percy, of a dau. at Westborne Cres
cent, 24th June.
Robertson, Mrs. wife of Capt. J. E. Robertson,
6th Royal Regt., of a son. 24th June.
Robertson, Mrs. E. L. of a son, at Norfolk Cres-
cent, 24th June.
Robinson, Mrs. W. S. of a dau. at Dyrham Rec-
tory, Gloucestershire, llth July.
Russell, Mrs. wife of the Rev. A. B. Russell, of a
son, at the Vicarage, Wells, llth July.
Salt, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Joseph Salt, of a son,
at Standon Rectory, 29th June.
Saxton, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Highbury Park,
18th June.
Sheriff, Mrs. Francis, of a dau. at Calverley Park,
20th July.
Smith, Mrs. H. J. of a dau. at Worthing, igth July.
Smith, Mrs. D. Scott, of Devonshire-street, of a
dau. 19th July.
Smith, Mrs. Major, of a son, at Plympton Lodge,
13th July.
Smith, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Samuel Smith, of a
son, at Camberwell, 16th July.
Somerville, Mrs. James Curtis, of a dau. at Wells,
17th July.
Spriggs, Mrs. H. of a son, at Hornsey, 10th July.
Stephenson, Mrs. George Robert, of a dau. at Black-
heath Park, 15thJuiy.
Sumner, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Colbourne Rec-
tory, Isle of Wight, 25th June.
Swifte, Mrs. Edmund Leathol, of a dau. at the
Tower, 14th July.
Synnot, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Cadogan Terrace,
16th July.
Tait, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Dr. Tait, of a dau. at
Rugby, 20th June.
Tomkins, Mrs. Samuel, iun. of a son, at Albert-road,
Regent's Park, 20th July.
Torkington, Mrs. L. I. of a son, at Tunbridge
Wells, 20th July.
Tweedy, Mrs. John Newman, of a son, at Portu au
Prince, Hayti, 17th May.
Ullathorne, Mrs. G. Hutton, of a son, at Notting-
hill, 5th July.
Vigne, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Henry Vigne, of a dau.
at Sunbury Vicarage, 12th July.
Wake, Mrs.W. of a dau, at Southampton, 4th July.
Watson, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Wellingborough,
9th July.
Watson, Mrs. T. S. of a son, at Kcw Green, 4th
July.
Watt, Mrs. wife of Captain Watt, Bengal Cavalry,
of a dau. at Lea, Kent, 23rd June.
Watts, Mrs. Richard, of a dau. at-Langford Vicar-
age, Lechlade, 22nd July.
Willink, Mrs. W. W. of a son, at Barntley, near
Liverpool, 10th July.
Wood, Mrs. W. Charles, of a son, at Fiddington
House, near Devizes, 23d June.
Wroughton, Mrs. Philip, of a son, at Ibstone House,
19th July.
Wyllie, Mrs. John, of a son, at Fulham, 10th
July.
Yonge, Mrs. wife of Captain Gustavus Yonge, 2nd
Queen's Royals, of a son, 14th July.
Young, Mrs. James H. of a dau. at Lee, Kent,
20th July.
p 2
1S6
Alcock, Joseph Locker, Esq.,reldest son of Samuel
AJoork, Esq., of Elder-house, Cobridge, Stafford
shire, to Susannah, eldest daughter of the late
William Burbridge, Esq., of Hatton-garden,
London, 24th June.
Anderson, W. D., Esq., of Sherrington, Wilts, to
Marianne, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Thos.
Harrison, incumbent of Holy Trinity, White-
haven, and rector of Corney, Cumberland, 8th July.
Andrews, Stanley, Esq., of St. Paul's-p ace, Isling-
ton, to Louisa, youngest daughter of the late J.
D. Welch, Esq., of Holyfield, Essex, l6th June.
Arkwright, the Rev, Henry, to Ellen Home Purves,
daughter of the late Viscountess Canterbury, 1st
July.
Bailey, Edward, eldest son of Edward Savage
Bailey, Esq., of Berners-street, to Maria, second
daughter of James Coles, Esq., of Old-park,
Clapiiam-common, 24th June.
Baiss, James, Esq., of Champion-hill, Camber-
well, to Ann, fourth daughter of Benjamin Stand-
rinpr, Esq., of theMinories, 1st July.
Barker, Bradshaw, Esq., youngest son of the
late John Barker, Esq., of Langshaw, Dum-
friesshire, North Britain, to Rebekah Maria,
eldest daughter of Colonel R. E. Burrows, K.H.,
Blackwell-'house, Somersetshire, 20th July.
Barker, John, Esq., of Langshaw, Dumfriesshire,
of the Madras Medical Service, to Isabella Hutch-
inson, daughter of the late Major Campbell, of
Walton -park, H.E.I.C.S , 22nd June.
Barker, Joseph, Esq., of Coleshill, Warwickshire,
to Harriet, youngest daughter of fhe late Edward
Woolls, Esq., of Winchester, 8th July.
Barnard, Henry, eldest son of the late William
Barnard, Esq., of Kennington, to Elizabeth
Jane, eldest daughter of the late Captain Henry
Hamby, i;th July.
Barnes, ' Robert, M.B., of Park-road, Notting-
hill, and Glocester-terrace, Hyde-park, to Eliza,
. eldest daughter of John Fawkener, Esq., of
Norland- place, Notting-hill, IQth June.
Bathe, U'illiain P., Esq., of 12, South-street
London, to Ann Maria, eldest daughter of the
late David Cameron, Esq., of Northaw-place,
Herts, 22nd June.
Beckwith, Wm. Andrews, Esq., of Wells, Somer-
set, to Mary Ann, youngest daughter of the late
James Baker, Esq., or Creeksea-place, Essex
13th July.
Benson, Samuel, fourth son of Rev. J.Benson, rector
of Norton, Somerset, to Philippa, Tyoungest dau.
of James Bourne, of Somerset street, Portman-
square, 29th June.
Berriedale, Lord, son of the Earl of Caithness, to
Louisa Georgiana, youngest daughter of G. R.
Phillips, Esq., M.P., and the Hon. Mrs. Phil-
lips, 10th July.
Blake, the Rev. Henry Bunbury, eldest son of Sir
Henry BlaUe, Bart., of Langham, Suffolk, to
Frances Marian, only daughter of Henry James
Oakes, Esq., of Nowton-court, and High Sheriff
of the county of Suffolk, 1st July.
Bligu, Richard, Esq., eldest son of" the late Richard
Biigh, Esq., barrister of the Inner Temple, and
grandson of the late Admiral Wm. Biigh, to
Maria Isabella, daughter of the late Captain
Fennell, Aide-de-Carnp to Sir Thomas Brisbane
Bart., then Governor of New South Wales, l6tl
Feb.
Blundell, Mr. Henry Caslon, of the Commissariat
third son of Thomas Leigh Blundell, M-D., of
39, Lombard-street, to Elizibeth, daughter of
Joseph Taylor, Esq., of Port Frances, 28th April.
Bond, Edward AugustusJE^q., to Caroline Frances,
daughter of the late Rev. il. II. Barhain, rector
of St. Faith's, London, loth July.
Bowdoin, James Temple, Esq., late Captain of the
4th (Royal Iri^h) Dragoon Guards, only son of the
late James Temple Bowdoin, Esq., and grandson
of Sir John Temple, Bart., to Elizabeth, third
daughter of Sir William Clay, Bart., M.P., of
Fulwell-lodge, in the county of Middlesex, 26th
June.
Bradley, the Rev. Edward, of Brighton, to Sarah,
the youngest daughter of Mr. John Torey, of
Gibson-square, Islington, 25th June.
Buckingham, Wm., Esq., of Exeter, to Elizabeth
Heath, third daughter of the late John Herman
Merivale, Esq., 24th June.
Burrowes, John, third son of the late Thomas
Burrowes, Esq., of Limehouse, to Funny, fourth
daughter of Charles Rich. Nelson, Esq., of
Twickenham-common, Middlesex, 14th July.
Campbell, Captain Colin Yorke, R.N., eldest son
of Rear-Admiral D. Campbell, of Barbreck,
Argyleshire, to Elizabeth, second daughter of
James Hyde, Esq., of Apley, Isle of Wight, 1st
July.
Champ, Charles, Esq., of Camden-road-villas,
Camden New-town, to Eliza, youngest daughter
of the late C. Wooifrey, Esq., of Lulworth,
Dorsetshire, 23rd June.
Champion, Henry, youngest son of the late Chan.
Champion, Esq., of Blyth, Notts, to Miss Rogers
of Ranley-house, near Retford, Notts, 10th July,
Champneys. the Rev. Dr., head-master of the Col.
legiate School, Glasgow, to Sarah Leake, eldest
daughter of the late Rev. T. H. Walpole, vicar
of Wii.slow, Bucks, 15th July.
Chapman, Wm. Danie, Esq., youngest son of Wm.
Chapman, Esq., of Newcasile-on-Tyne, to Janet,
fifth surviving daughter of the Rev. H. T. Hare,
of Ducking-hall, Norfolk, 8th July.
Charles, Robert, eldest son of Robert Charles,
E-q., of Endsleigh-terrace, Tavistock-square, to
Henrietta Keddey, daughter of Joseph Fletcher,
Esq., of Union-dock, Limehouse, 29th June.
Colgrave, Francis Edward, son of Wm. Col grave,
Esq., of Bryanston-square, London, and Brace-
bridge and Mere-hall, Lincolnshire, to Mary
Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Robert Bruce
Chichester, Esq., of Lower Seymour-street, Port-
man-square, and niece of Sir Bruce Chichester,
Bart., of Arlington-court, Devon.
Collin, Count du, Baron de Barizien, Viscount de
Cury, to the Countess Cofmar, daughter of his
Royal Highness the Duke of Brunswick, 10th
July.
Comins, Richard, Esq., of Tiverton, to Catherine
Mack, youngest daughter of John Shuckburgh
How, Esq., of the Lodge, near Tiverton, 24th June.
Cooper, Wm., jun., Esq., of Upper Holloway, to
Catherine, second daughter of James Simms,
Esq., of Haslemere, Surrey, 14th June.
Colter, Pownoll Pellow, Esq., R.N., to^ Harriett
Emma, second daughter of the late John Haile,
ESI]., Paymaster and Purser, R.N., of Albany-
road, Camberwell, 20th July.
Davenport, Sam. Skurray, Esq., of Bahia, to Anna
Cecilia, eldest daughter of Frederick Grigg, Esq.,
late of Rio de Janeiro, 30th June.
Deane, Joseph, late Captain Carabineers, son of the
late W. Browne, Esq., and the Lady Charlotte, of
Browne's-hill, Carlow, to Georgiana Charlotte,
only child of the late Lieut.-Coi. Thursby, of the
53rd Regiment, 23rd June.
Dolan, Henry, Esq., of Isleworth, to Anne Con-
MARRIAGES.
137
stuntia, daughter of John Rees, Esq., of Melbury-f Hatf on, George Sydney, Esq., Albert-villas, St.
terrace, Hare wood-square, 7th July. j John's, Fuluam, to Anne, second daughter of
Domviile, the Rev. David Edward, M.A., of Se- Henry Wilkinson, Esq., Bromptou-square, 1/ta
mington, Wiltshire, to Mary Jane, daughter of July.
Ewen Stabb, Esq., of the Retreat, South Lam- Healey, George, of Watford, to Elizabeth Whitting-
beth, 13th July. | stall, only daughter of John Beaumont, Esq., of
Drake, John, Esq., of Regent's-park, to Eliza,! St. Alban's, 24th June.
^i i_i_ T 1 ll_ll M ,.,-.,.., T.1^ 1 T?
youngest daughter of the late John Belli- my,
Esq., of Wobern-square, 1st July.
Driffield, Charles Edward, of Prescot, solicitor, to
Margaret, youngest daughter of the late Peter
Millett, Esq., of Prescot, 6th July.
Dunn, Richard Marsh, Esq., eldest son of Captain
James C. Dunn, Royai Navy, to Eliza Helen
yonnarer daughter of James Bower, Esq., of
Weymouth and Me!comb Regis, 20th July.
Dunne, Charles Augustus, third sou of the late
Simon Dunne, Esq., R N., commander of her
Majesty's cruiser, Castle Coote, to Maria, eldest
rlausrlifer of the late Mr. Thomas Dyson, oi
London, 21st June.
Dutt.n, Wm. Quinton, Esq , of Twickenham, to
Mary Ann, eldest daughter of Wm. Dutton, Esq
of Hampton, Oxfordshire, 16th June.
Eastwick, Edward B., Esq., of Haleybury, to
Rusina Jane, only surviving daughter of the late
Jiunes Hunter Esq., of Hafton, 25tL June.
JM'vatdes, John, Esq., youngest son of Vincent
Edwardes, Esq , of Farmcote, Staffordshire, to
Jemima, daughter of the late Rev. John Marten
Butt, M.A., vicar of East Garston, Berks, 26th
June.
Hounslow, to Caroline, youngest daughter of
Robert Tench, Esq., of Ludlow, 30th June.
Erwin, Alfred Stevens, Esq., of Bognor, to Emily
Maitland, second daughter of Capt. Addison,
H.E.I.C.S., 29th June.
Fisher, the Rev. Robert Bailey, vicar of Basildon,
to Louisa, third daughter of the late Isaac Currie,
Esq.. of Bush-hill, Middlesex, 21st July.
Henderson, Edward, Esq., of the Bombay Military
Service, second son of John P. Henderson, Esq.
of Manchester-square, to Judith Hutton, eldest
daughter of the late Dr. Wm. Cookson, M.D.,
of Lincoln, 17th July.
Hinde, Wm. Esq., of'Cleobury Mortimer, Salop,
to Mary Frances, second daughter of Thomas
Williams, Esq., of Warfield- lodge, Berks, and of
Adelaide, South Australia, 8th July.
Hockin, John, Esq., of Dominica, third son of tLe
Rev. Win. Hockin, rector of Philiack, Cornwall,
to Mary, second daughter of Wm. Hickeas, E.-q.,
of Camberwell -grove, 24th June.
Hodgson, the Rev. O. A., minor canon of Win-
chester Cathedral, to Eleanor Lucy, second
daughter of Wm. Mitchell, Esq., of Pctersfidd,
1st July.
Hore, Lieutenant E. G., second son of the late
Captain Hore, R.N., of Pole-Hore, in the c;U'i!y
of Wexford, Ireland, to Maria, second <iuu^hu;r
of Lieut. -Col. Reid, Governor of the Wii.dward
Islands, 17th June.
Huggins, Edward, Esq., of Bellina-villa, Kentish-
town, to Ellen, eldest daughter of John Meacock,
Esq., of Little Baling, 2nd July.
nmott, Christopher Browning:, Esq., M.D., of Hughes, the Rev. John Young, B. A., to Justina
Mercy, only child of Richard Rhodes, Esq., of
Greenwich, 15th July.
Inglefield, S. H. S., Lieutenant Royal Artillery,
second son of Rear-Admiral Inglefield, C.B ,
Commander-in-Chief of the East India and China
Station, to Charlotte, youngest daughter of the
late Colonel Coore, of Scrutton-hall, in the same
county, 28th June.
Frost, Thomas, Esq., Gravel-pits, Shere, Surrey, to Illingworth, the Rev. Edward, M,A., of Edgbaston,
Julia Caroline, third daughter of Captain Pyner,
East Sandfield-house, Guildford, 8th June.
Gard iner, James Spalding, Esq., of Manor-house,
Great Wymondly, Herts, to Mary Ann, only
child of the late George and Mary Ann Haywood,
ami granddaughter of the late Wm. Porthouse,
Esq., of Balham-hill, Surrey, 19th June.
Gel!, Inigo, son of Francis Harding Gell, Esq..
cot oner for the county of Sussex, to Anne, dau.
of Edward Prichard, Esq., banker, Ross, 6th July.
Gtsrney, Francis Hay, eldest son of Daniel Gurney,
E*q., of North Runcton, and the late Lady
Harriet Gurney, to Margaret Charlotte, eldest
daughter of Sir Wm. Browne Folkes, Bart., 8th
July.
Hal head, Francis, of the Middle Temple, Esq.,
son of the late John Halhead, Esq., of Yately-
house, Hants, to Mary Anne, daughter of the
-late James Powell, Esq., of Clapton-house, Mid-
dlesex, 1st July.
Hammet, James Palmer Francis, eldest son of the
late James Esdaile Hammet, Esq., to Jocosa
Jane, second daughter of Swynfen Jervis, Esq.,
of Whitehall-place, and Darlaston-hall, Stafford-
shire, 1st July,
Hammond, Charles Eaton, Esq., banker, of New-
market, to Emily Law Wilson, second daughter
of the Rev Plumpton Wilson, vicar of Thorpe,
Arnold, 1st July.
Hammond, the Rev. Egerton Douglas, second son
of Wm. Osmond Hammond, Esq., of St. Alban'«-
couit, Kent, to Elizabeth Katherine, elder dau.
of Robert Whitmore, Esq., of Portland-place,
London, 6th July.
Hartley, the Rev. Wm. Samuel, B.A., vicar of
Laughton, Yorkshire, to Elizabeth, youngest
daughter of the Rev. Henry Boyce, M.A., of
the Abbey-road, St. John's-wood, 1st July.
Hdrwood, James, Esq., to Charlotte, youngest
daughter of the late John Tray ton Fuller, Esq.,
of Ashdown-house, in the county of Sussex, 13th
July.
only son of A. Illingworth, Esq., surgeon, R.N.,
of Fowey, Cornwall, to Louisa, daughter of the
late Dr. Percy, of Bedworth-hall, Warwickshire,
and- niece of Miss Piercy, of Priory-place,
Edibaston, 17th June.
Jackson, Henry, Esq., of St. Helen 's-place, Lon-
don, to Emily, daughter of the late David Came-
ron, Esq., of 'Northaw-place, Herts, 15th July.
Janson, Henry, Esq, of Clapton-terrace, to
Caroline, only daughter of the late Thos. Home
Janson, Esq., of Hurstperpoint.
Jones, Alban Thomas, Esq., of Bilboa, to Marie
Margarita de Ynchaustegui, of Aibia, Biscav,
23rd June.
Key, John Binny, Esq., of the firm of Binny and
Co., Madras, to Annabella Homeria, vm:"ow of
the late John Harcourt, Esq. surgeon H.ftJ.S.
and eldest daughter of Major- General Sir George
Pollock, G.C.B. 27th Feb.
Knipe, George Marshall, Esq., S.Qth regt. , second
son of G. M. Knipe, Esq., of Belturbet, county
of Cavan, to Jessie Maria, daughter of the late
Sir Simon Howard, of Carlisle, many years Pie
sideut of the Medical Board at Madras, 20th
July.
Kynvett, Frederic, Esq., Captain, Madras Army,
to Laura Frances, second daughter of the late
Major d'Arley, 28th June.
Lambert, Benjamin, second son of Daniel Lam-
bert, Esq., of Banstead, to Margaret Anne, eld.
daughter of P. N. Tomlins, Esq., of Pain-
ter's-hall, London, and Dulwich, Surrey, lOtli
July.
Landon, the Rev. James T. B., M.A., Fellow of
Magdalen College, Oxford, to Sarah, second duu.
of the late Francis Watt, Esq., of Beveriev,
Yorkshire, 13th July.
Langton, W. F., Esq., of Bryfield, county of Devon,
to Ellen Laura Elizabeth, third daughter of t!:e
late Lieutenant Colonel Shakleworth, of Lea
Grange. 15th July.
Last, Charles Henry, Esq., of Hadleigh, Suffolk, t
188
MARRIAGES.
Louisa, youngest daughter of the late Rev. Job
Marple Wallace, rector of Great Braxted, Essex,
14th July.
Leckie, Charles Taylor, Esq., Royal Nayy, to Eli
zabeth Binning, second daughter of Major Shairp,
of Houstoun, l6th June.
Lloyd, Francis, Esq., Beaufort-lodge, Chelsea, to
Marian Sadler, eldest daughter of the late Edw.
Sadler, Esq., of Sutton Coldfield, Warwickshire,
22nd June.
Lomas, Holland, eldest son of George Lomas, Esq.
of Birch-hall, Lancashire, to Nony Hardy, second
daughter of Samuel Johnston, Esq., of Olinda
Liscard, Cheshire, 22d June.
Low, Archibald M'Arthur, Esq., of Chancery-lane,
London, solicitor, to Caroline Anne, eldest dau.
of George Hewlett, Esq., of Kniller's-court,
near Fareham, 10th July.
Lucas, Richard Bland, of South Audley-street, to
Eliza, daughter of Mr. Richard Edwards, of
Batshanger, in the county of Kent, 17th June.
Lupton, Francis,- Esq., of Leeds, to Frances Eliza-
beth, only daughter of T. M. Greenhow, Esq.,
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1st July.
Luscombe, J. H., Esq., of Forest-hill, Sydenham,
to Clara, eldest daughter of James Bristow, Esq ,
of Ifield-court, in the county of Sussex, 22d
July.
Lyte, John Walter Maxwell, of Berry Head, Devon,
to Emily Jeannette, eldest daughter of the late
Colonel Craigie, Bengal Army, 24th June.
MacDonnell, Richard Graves, L.L.D., eldest son of
the Rev. Dr. MacDonnell. Senior Fellow of
Trinity College, Dublin, to Blanche Anne, third
daught»r of Francis Skurray, Esq., of Brunswick-
square, Brighton, 10th July.
Maddock, William, Esq., of Liverpool, to Eliza-
beth, second daughter of the Rev. Edward Whit-
ley, of Wandsworth, 23rd May.
Marke, Sedley Bastard, Esq., of Liskeard, in the
county of Cornwall, and of the Crescent, Ply-
mouth, to Ann Eliza, eldest daughter of the Rev.
Henry Addington Simcoe, of Penheale, Corn-
wall, and granddaughter of the late Lieutenant-
General Simcoe, of Wolford-lodge, Devon, 22d
June.
Meadows, the Rev. J. C., M.A., only son of the
late Lieutenant-Colonel Meadows, 15th Regi-
ment, and grandson of the Very Rev. Dr. Duppe",
formerly Dean of Jersey, to Isabella, second dau.
of Captain Edward Sutherland, the Royal Hos-
pital, Chelsea, 14th July.
Mecham, Maunsell, Esq., to Harriett Fairfax, relict
of Edward Fairfax, Esq., R.N., 15th July.
Mercer, Arthur Hill Hasted, Esq., 60th King's
Royal Rifles, son of Colonel Mercer, R.M., Com
mandant, Plymouth, to Elizabeth Anne, daugh-
ter of the late Major Robert Hutchinson Ord,
R.A., K.H., a Deputy- Lieutenant for the county
of Essex, 10th July.
Merest, James Drage, Esq., of the Abbey, Bury St.
Edmund's, Suffolk, to Maria Billington, third
daughter of the late William Hawes, Esq., of the
Adelphi terrace, London, IQth July.
Miles, Geo., Esq., of Lee, Kent, to Fanny, youngest
daughter of the late Edward Augustus Gilbons,
Esq., of the Wandsworth road, 1st July.
Miller, Arthur Octavius, son ol the late Richard
Miller, Esq., of Kensington-lodge, Harrow, to
Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Lieutenant W. L.
Brake, R.N., of the Priory, Wandswortb-road,
22d July.
Mitchison, William Anthony, Esq., of Sunbury, to
Harriett Jane Stovin, daughter of Richard Stovin
Maw, Esq., of Ashford-house, Middlesex, and of
Withern, Lincolnshire, 1st July.
Moffatt, Cornelius William. Esq., M.A., of the
Middle Temple, son of William Moffatt, Esq.,
of Weymouth, to Catherine, second daughter of
the late R. F. Roberts, Esq., of Burton Brad-
stock, Dorset, 30th June.
Mogrid*e, John, Esq., of Sinxonsbath, Devonshire,
to Mary Ann, younger daughter of the late Mr.
William Bowley, of Bishopsgate street, 17th
June.
Murray, John, Esq., of Albemarle-street, London,
to Marion, third daughter of the late Alexander
Smith, Esq., of Edinburgh, 6th July.
Napier, John Moore, only son of Major-General
Win. Napier, C.B., to Bessie Henrietta, youngest
daughter of Major Charles Alexander, R. E., 22nd
June.
Norton, Thomas, Esq., of Shrewsbury, only son of
Francis Ceilings Norton, Esq., to Ellen, only
child of the late George Humphreys, Esq., of
Newport, Shropshire, 2Qth June.
Nunes, John, Esq., of Croydon, to Grace Isabella
Le Neve, eldest daughter of the late Peter Le
Neve Forster, Esq., of Lenwade, Norfolk, 22nd
July.
Ord, Mark, Esq., of Hurworth-grange, to Eliza-
beth Dixon, daughter of T. D. Walker, Esq., of
Hurworth, 1st July.
Palmer, Captain N. H., of the Emerald Isle, second
son of Nathaniel Palmer, Esq., Recorder of
Great Yarmouth, to Martha Mealing, eldest dau.
of Robert Mills, Esq., of that city, 8th July.
Parker, Charles Abraham, eldest ton of George
Parker, Esq., Church-hill-house, Handsworth,
Staffordshire, to Fanny, eldest daughter of Grif-
feth Briscoe.Esq., Doncaster, and granddaughter
of the late Robert Tomlin, Esq., of Edith Wes-
ton, Rutland, 7th July.
Phillips, Barnet S., Esq., of Chester-terrace, Re-
gent's-park, to Philippa, daughter of Phillip
Samuel, Esq., of Bedford- place, 2Qth June.
Pinney, Francis, , Esq., of Tyndwr Llangollen, to
Dorothy, fourth daughter of Henry Gisby, Esq.,
of Hollycurdane, Thanet, 28Ch June.
Plowden, Charles, Esq., of Florence, to Anne Eliza,
daughter of the late George Bryan, Esq., of
Jenkinstown, county of Kilkenny, 12th July.
Quicke, John, Esq., eldest son of John Quicke,
Esq., of Newton St. Cyres, in the county of
Devon, to Mary Elizabeth, only daughter of the
late Thomas Wentworth Gould, Esq., of Bath-
ealton-court, Somerset, 24th June.
Randolph, the Rev. William, third son of the Rev.
Herbert Randolph, late rector of Letcombe Bas-
sett, Berks, to Anne, the widow of the Rev. Ed-
mund Burke Lewis, late rector of Toddington,
Bedfordshire, 2Qth June.
Reece, Robert, Esq., jun. of Exeter College, Ox-
ford and of the Inner Temple, to Louisa, eldest
daughter of Joseph Kirkman, Esq., Igth July.
Reynolds, Charles William, Esq., late Captain in
the 16th Lancers, to Charlotte Mary, only dau.
of the Rev. R. P. Butler, 24th June.
Robinson, the Rev. Gilbert William, M.A., incum-
bent of Walmley, Warwickshire, to Frances
Sarah, youngest surviving daughter of the late
Michael Russell, Esq. of Wimbledon, 14th July.
Routh, Edward, Esq. of Blackheath, to Elizabeth
Skardon Taylor, only daughter of the late Wil-
liam Cress Taylor, Esq., of Blackheath, 26th
June.
Rowland, George, Esq., of Holly-lodge, Heacham,
Norfolk, to Eliza, third daughter of the late Rev.
James Wright, rector of East Harling and Hin-
derclay, in the same county, 19th June.
Saunders, Edward, Esq., 2nd Dragoon Guards,
youngest son of Richard Saunders, Esq. of
Largey, county of Cavan, to Caroline, second
daughter of John Weldale Knollys, Esq. of Read-
ing, Berks, 29th June.
Scholey, Alfred, second son of George Scholey,
Esq., to Fanny, second daughter of George
Baker, Esq., both of Westbourne-terrace, Hyde-
park, 22»d July.
Scholfield, Henry Daniel, M.D., of Birkenhead, to
Myra Caroline, only daughter of the late James
Taylor, Esq., Bombay Civil Service, and grand-
daughter of the late Major-General R. Lewis,
15th July.
Hercombe, Rupert C, Esq., of Carlton - villas,
Maida-vale, to Louisa, third daughter of William
I
MARRIAGES.
189
Henrj Smith, Esq., of Kilburn house, Middlesex
15th July.
Shruhsole, John,
youngest son of William
Shrubsole, Esq., to Sarah Alicia Eliza, eldes
daughter of C. J. Fenner, Esq., of Hampton
wick, Middlesex, 8th July.
Simmons, Lieutenant- Colonel, C.B., late of the Watson, the Rev. Thomas M.A., of Caius Col-
41st Regiment, to Frances, relict of Alexander
Munro, of Trinidad, and eldest daughter of J
Townshend Pasea, of Streatham-lodge, 8th July.
Skinner, Captain H., of the Nizam's Cavalry, to
Rose Ann, eldest daughter of Samuel Cardozo,
Esq., of Redruth, Cornwall, 12th July.
Slous, Angiolo Robson, Esq., to Emily, youngest
daughter of John Sherborn, Esq., of Ladbroke-
square, 6th July.
Smith, Willia-n, Esq., of Blandford, to Sophia,
eldest daughter of the late John Whittle, Esq.,
15th June.
Smith, William Hornsby, eldest son of the late
Charles Smith, of Milton next Sittingbourne,
Kent, to Bridget Lavinia Cottenburgh, daughter
of the late John Llanwarne, Esq., and Mrs.
Lynch, of Somerset-street, Portman square, 20th
July.
Stafford, William Jones, Esq., of Liverpool, to
Sophia Farrington, only daughter of the late
Dr. Nagle, R.N., 23rd May.
Street, James, C., Esq. of Milton-street, Dorset-
Barkshire Street, Esq., Chichester, Sussex, to
Bessie, eldest daughter of the late George Smith,
Esq., of Salisbury, 7th July.
Taylor, Skinner, Esq., eldest son of the late Wm.
Taylor, Esq., of Brixton-place, in the county of
Surrey, to Anne Jenner Buss, of Maidstone, in
the county of Kent, spinster, 10th July.
Tillard, the; Rev. Richard H., of St. John's Col-
Waller, James, Esq. of Luton.to Eliza, eldest dau.
of Joseph King Blundell, Esq., of the same
place, 21st July. ,
Ware, Samuel, Esq., of Fitzroy-square, to Isabella,
second daughter of the late Lancelot Hare, M.D.
of Upper Gower-street, 1st July.
lege, Cambridge, and assistant chaplain in the
Hon. East India Company's Service, to Caro-
line, third daughter of the late Francis Gibbes,
Esq., of Harewood, 8th July.
Watson, John, Esq., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge,
younger son of the late Richard Watson, Esq.,
of Lutterworth, in the county of Leicester, to
Anne, second daughter of Charles Blayney Trevor
Roper, Esq., of Plas Teg-park, in the county of
Flint, 2-lth June.
Weller, Charles Grainger, Esq., son of Captain
Weller of Leisham, to Lucy Harriett, eldest dau.
of William Mellet Hollis, Esq., of the same place,
15th July.
Whitworth, the Rev. T., rector of Addlethorpe, and
vicar of Thorpe, Lincolnshire, to Emma, young-
est daughter of the late John Pulley, Esq., of
Bedford, 17th June,
Wilkinson, Alexander, fourth son of the late James
Wilkinson, Esq., of Leadenhall-street, to Caro-
line Stewart, only daughter of the late John
Lamb, Esq., of Edinburgh, 17th July
square, London, eldest son of the late James Wilians, O., Esq., jun., of Askitt-hill, Roundhay
near Leeds, to Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
William Tetley, Esq., of Asenby - lodge, near
Thirsk, 14th July.
Willes, Charles Thomas, Esq., fourth son of the
late Rev. Wm. Snippen Willes, of Astrop house,
county of Northampton, to Mary Patience, second
daughter of the Rev. Henry Wise, of Off church,
and the Priory, Warwick, 20th July.
lege, Cambridge, to Anna, second daughter of Willock, the Rev. Charles Wm., of Balliol College,
the Rev. Joseph Cotterill, rector of Blakeney, Oxford, son of the late A. C. Willock, Esq.,
Royal Artillery, to Maria, daughter of Richard
Gosiing, Esq., of North Cray, 23rd June.
24th June.
Towgood, John, Esq., of Chancery-lane, barrister-
at-law, to Mary Philips, daughter of Mr. Robert
Rickards, of Chiswell-street, Finsbury- square,
8th July.
Vaimer, Charles Auguste Pinon Duclose de, only
son of the Vicomte de Vaimer, of La Barre,
France, and of Ozleworth-park, Gloucestershire,
to Julia Eliza, only child of Thomas JBurslem,
f Esq., and step daughter of Benjamin Jackson,
late of Youghal, 21st July.
Varden, Richard, Esq., Civil Engineer, of Worces-
ter, to IClizabeth Susannah, only daughter of T.
P. Medwin. Esq., of Stourbridge, 8th July.
Villiers W. G. Villiers, eldest son of the late G.
W. Villiers Villiers, to Norah Frances Sheridan
Power, youngest daughter of the late Tyrone
Power, Esq., 30th June.
Wilts, the Venerable the Archdeacon of, to Frances
Laura, daughter ^of the late W. Dawson, Esq.,
of Wakefield, Yorkshire, 20th July.
Wolley, William F., Esq., to Jane, eldest daughter
of the late Henry Coape, Esq., 21st June.
Wright, Edward, Esq., of Kennington, only son of
Charles Wright, Esq., to Rose Mary, youngest
daughter of Thomas Trew, Esq., of Woburn-
place, and Newark-house, St. Peter's, Thanet,
17th July.
Yates, William, Esq., of Lincoln's-inn, to Mary
Cowlard, eldest surviving daughter of the late
James Arundell, Esq., and niece of the late
William Whitton, Esq., of Stonewall, Kent, 1st
July.
^miotatcfc
Alexander, Louisa Augusta, daughter of thej
late Lesley Alexander, Esq. of Newtown
Limvaddy, co. Londonderry, at Neuwied,
on the Rhine, 26th June.
Allan, Captain Robert, formerly of Calcutta,
at No. 47, Brompton crescent, in the 60th
year of his age, 30th June.
Alston, Mrs. James, of Bryanston square,
1st July.
Anderton, Lieutenant W. F. of the 9th
Lancers, eldest son of Captain Anderton,
late of the 1st Life Guards, on board the
Glendaragh, on his passage from Calcutta
to England, 16th March.
Askew, Lieut.-General Sir Henry, C.B.
This gallant officer died on the 25th June,
at Cologne, in his 73rd year, having bet n
born 7th May, 1775. He was third son,
190
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
l>y Bridget, his wife, daughter and heiress
of John Watson, Esq. of Goswick, co.
Durham, of the late John Askew, Eeq
of Pallinsburn, fourth son of Dr. Adam
Askew, of Storrs Hall, and succeeded to
the representation of this branch of the
Askews of Redheugh, co. Durham, on the
decease of his elder brother in 1838. Sir
Henry entered the army, as Ensign in the
1st Foot, in 1793, and served in Holland
and Flanders, Sicily, the Mediterranean,
the Expedition to Walchercn in 1809;
and in the Peninsula and South of France
from 1812 to 1814. He participated in
the brilliant operations of 1815, was
•wounded at Quatre Bras, and received a
Waterloo Medal, as well as one for
services at Nive. He was knighted in
1 821, and attained the rank of Lieut enanj-
General in 1837.
Aspinall, James, Esq. This highly respect
able gentleman was a member of the Cor
poration of Liverpool, and had filled the
office of Mayor of that important town
He was also a magistrate for the county
of Lancaster. The death of Mr. Aspinal
was awfully sudden. While in Vauxhal
Gardens on the night of Thursday the
17th June, with a party of friends, he fel
down and at once expired. The cause
was apoplexy, brought on no doubt ty
his excessive corpulency. Mr. Aspinall
though only forty-two years of age at hi
decease, weighed 21, stone.
Badderston, Elizabeth, relict of Thoma
Francis Badderston, Esq. late of Baddon
Lodge, Essex, aged 50. 26th June.
Baker, Louisa, second daughter of the lat
Sir Robert Baker, Bart, of Dunstab!
house, Richmond, Surrey, aged 54, 20tl
July.
Barclay, Louisa, youngest dau. of Rober
Barclay, Esq. of Lombard street, banker
at Leyton, Essex, aged 13, 4fh July.
Barlow, Capt. Frederick, late of the 61s
Regiment, aged 37, 8th July.
Barton, Anne, wife of James Barton, Esq.
of Buenos Ayres, South America, and
daughter of the late John Mackinlay,
Esq. at Edge-hill, Liverpool, 6th July/
Barwise, Lieut. John, Madras Artillery, at
Octacamund, aged 23, 15th May.
Bazalgette, Frances, widow of L. Bazalgette,
Esq. late of Eastwick-park, co. Surrey,
at her residence in Gloucester - place,
Portman square, in her 79th year, 3rd
July.
Bedwell, Percivnl, Esq. of the Registrar's-
office of the High Court of Chancery,
suddenly, aged 38, 29th July.
Bell.George Joseph, M.B. Balliol; K.C.L.S.
Radcliff travelling fellow of Oxford ; and
Physician to Her Majesty's Mission in
Persia ; second son of the late Professor
George Joseph Bell, of Edinburgh, at
Erzeroom, on his way from Persia, in the
34th year of his age, 20th May.
5ennett,Mary, the wife of Charles Bennett,
at Stanhope-lodge, Hyde-park, in her
74th year, 22nd June.
5erney, Miss, only daughter of Thomas
and Elizabeth Berney, formerly of Bracon
Ash, Norfolk, at Bracon-hall, 25th June.
Bingley, Robert, Esq. F.R.S. at Highara
Lodge, Woodford, Essex, aged 82, 17th
July.
Mshop, Deputy- Assistant-Commissary-Gen-
eral Alfred, second son of Sir Henry
Bishop, at Bermullet, co. Mayo, Ireland,
of fever, 17th June.
31and. Judith Selina, daughter of the late
T. D. Bland, Esq. of Kippax-park, at
Hundhill. near Pontefract, 16th July.
Blunt, Sir Walter, Bart. 13th July.
Bouchette, Adelaide, relict of the late
Colonel Bouchette, Her Majesty's Sur-
veyor-General of the province, at Mon-
treal, Canada, 10th June.
Boulton, Hugh William, Esq. of the 1st
Life Guards, second son of the late Mat-
thew Robinson Boulton, Esq. of Soho,
Staffordshire, and Tew-park, Oxfordshire,
aged 25, 18th July.
Bouverie, Charles, only son of the late
Charles Henry Bouverie, Esq. of Oxford-
house, Great Marlow, at Islington, aged
23, 9th July.
Brabazon, William John, Esq. of Brabazon-
park, Mayo, died recently at Malta. Mr.
Brabazon was elder son of Hercules
Sharpe, Esq. of Oaklands, Sussex, by
Anne Mary his wife, eldestr daughter of
the late Sir Anthony Brabazon, Bart, of
Brabazon Park, co. Mayo, and grandson
of Cuthbert Sharpe, Esq. of Sunderland,
by Susanna his wife, sister of Brass
Crosby, M. P. for Honiton, the distin-
guished Lord Mayor of London in 1771,
who made in that year a successful strug-
gle for the free publication of the parlia-
mentary debates, and suffered imprison-
ment in the Tower of London. Mr. W.
J. Brabazon changed his patronymic
Sharpe for the surname of Brabazon, by
royal licence, on succeeding to the estates
of his uncle, Sir Wm. John Brabazon,
Bart. M. P. His uncle, Sir Cuthbert
Sharpe, F.S.A. is an eminent antiquarian
writer.
Brandon, Joshua J. Esq. late of Harley-
street, at Paris, 23rd June.
Brodhurst, Eleanor, third daughter of John
Edward Brodhurst, Esq. at Crowbill,
Mansfield, 25th June.
Bull, the Rev. John Garwood, A.B. vicar
of Godalming, Surrey, at York, aged
55, 8h July.
Butler, Cornelius Haynes, Esq. of Ingate-
stone, Essex, aged 35, 28th June.
Buttaushaw, Major W. late of the Bengal
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
191
Army, at Lee-park, Blackheath, in the
56th year of his age, 17th June.
Buxton, Charles, Esq. at Bellfield, near
Weymouth, aged 88, 16th July.
Cambridge, Charles Owen, Esq. of Whit-
minster-house, co. Gloucester, in his 95th
year, 29th June.
Capel, Lady Caroline. This lady, who
died on the 9th July, aged 74, was eldest
sister of the present Marquis of Anglesey,
being daughter of Henry, first Earl of
Uxbridge, by Jane his wife, daughter of
the Very Rev. Arthur Champagne, Dean
of Clonmacnoise. Her ladyship married
2nd April, 1792, the Hon. John Thomas
Capel, son of the fourth Earl of Essex,
and was left a widow in 1819 with three
sons and eight daughters ; the eldest of
the former succeeded to the hereditary
honours of his family at the decease of
his uncle in 1839, and is the present
Earl of Essex.
Cardew, Harriet, wife of Captain Cardew,
74th Highlanders, and eldest daughter ol
Lieutenant-Colonel Fenwick, Royal En-
gineers, at Glasgow, aged 25, 13th June.
Also, a few hours previously, Thomas
Howard, infant son of the above Captain
and Harriett Cardew.
Chambers, Emma Catherine, relict of Davicl
Chambers, Esq. and daughter of the late
John Weyland, Esq. of Woodeaton, Ox-
fordshire, in Glocester-terrace, Regent's-
park, in her 66th year, 18th June.
Chambers, Mary, only daughter of the late
Rev. Thomas Chambers, aged 61, 12th
July.
Cheere, Mrs. Emma, at Montague-square
29th June.
Chisholm, Mrs. Susanna Stewart, wife oi
Alexander Chisholm, Esq. artist, 17th
. June.
Clarke, his Excellency Andrew, Esq. K.H
at Government-house, Perth, Westerr
Australia, Governor and Commander-in
Chief of that colony, and late Lieutenant
Colonel in the 40th Regiment, aged 54
llth Feb.
Clayton, Michael, Esq. of Lincoln's Inn
and Charlwood Park, Surrey, aged 53
llth July.
Coates, Henry, Esq. of dysentery, at Per
nambuco; having landed at that port three
days previously from H.M. packet. Swift
during nearly 30 years an eminent medi
cal practitioner in Rio de Janeiro 4t
May.
Cogswell the Rev. William, A.M. at Hali
fax. Nova Scotia, aged 37, 5th June.
Colquit, Rear-Admiral, at Bishopstoke
aged 61, 10th July.
Cooper, Jane, third daughter of John1
Cooper, Esq. of Her Majesty's Ordnance,
at the Tower, 5th July.
Cotes, Thomas Durell, Esq. of Bath, a<"jd
55, 20th July.
>owdy, Lieutenant John Craven Lewis,
36th Native Infantry, Madras Presidency,
son of Captain Crowdy, R.N. of cholera,
after a short illness, at Dieppe, 20th July.
!!unliffe, Jane Hall, the wife of John Cun-
liffe, jun Esq. and youngest daughter of
the late John Woodburne, Esq. Thurston-
ville, Lancashire, at Bank-parade, Pres-
ton, 3rd July.
Curtis, George Rix, Esq. late of Gainsbo-
rough, Lincolnshire, at Bruges, in Bel-
gium, in the 69th year of his age, 2oth
June.
Dalzell, Sarah, relict of the late John Tho-
mas Robert Dalzell, Esq. at Wallingford,
Berkshire, in the 83rd year of her age,
llth July.
Daniel, G. R. Esq. Q.C. of Landsdown-
place, Cheltenham, and co. Westmeath,
Ireland, in London, 19th June.
Dansey, James Cruikshank, Esq. of Great
Milton, Oxfordshire, eldest son of Colonel
Dansey, C.B. at Ryde, in the Isle of
Wight, in his 30th year, 18th July.
iDelafosse, Margaret Teresa, eldest surviving
daughter of the late Major Henry Dels-
fosse, C.B. of the Bengal Artillery, and
Principal Commissary of Ordnance, after
a few days' illness, at Marlborough, in
the 18th year of her age. 17th June.
Dewdney, the Rev. Edmund, incumbent of
St. John's Chapel, Portsea, at Florence,
18th June.
Dobinson, Joseph, Esq. Ensign in the 15th
Madras Native Infantry, youngest son of
Joseph Dobinson, Esq. of Egh am -lodge,
Egham, Surrey, at Bangalore, in the
20th year of his age, 28th April.
Donne, Thomas, Esq. of Welch Street,
Donatts, co. Glamorgan, 10th June.
Douglas, Colin, Esq. of Maino, Lieut. R.N.
at Aberdeen, 16th July.
Downes, Matilda Granville, youngest ciau.
of the late Major Charles and Frances
Downes, of Edinburgh, at West Leigh,
Havant, Hants. aged'l9, 25th June.
Du Cane, Alice, the only surviving daughter
of the late Major Du Cane, of the 20th
Light Dragoons, at Witham, Essex, after
a short illness, in the 24th year of her age,
17th June.
Dunlop, Margaret, relict of the late James
Dunlop, Esq. of Glasgow, 17th June.*
Dupuis, Seymour, eldest son of the Rev.
Charles Dupuis, Rector of Brixton, co.
Warwick, drowned off the Lizard, aged
18, 7th July.
Edgeworth, Major Thomas, formerly of the
35th Regiment, at Hawthorne, Berks,
20th July.
Egan. Alice, relict of the late Edward Egan,
l£gq. at St. John's Wood, 6th July.
Ewart, Eliza, daughter of Colonel Cheney,
C.B. and relict of the late John Ewart,
Esq. of Liverpool, at Deesin's Hotel,
Calais, 2nd July.
1.92
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
Fallow, the Rev. T. M. Incumbent of St
Andrews, Marylebone, 16th July.
Fisher, Susanna, second daughter of the late
Captain Peter Fisher, R.N. of Walmer
Kent, at Newport, Barnstaple, Devon, o
consumption, 3rd July.
Fitchett, Stephen, Esq. of Fareham, aged
86, 25th June.
Forbes, Caroline Maria, wife of Robert
Forbes, Esq. and daughter of Charles
Rooke, Esq. of Westwood-house, Essex
in Glocester-place, Portman-square, 4th
July.
Forbes, Mrs. relict of the late Capt. Robert
Forbes, aged 87, 10th July.
Forester, Sophia, relict of the Rev. Henry
Forester, late of Fifehead, Dorsetshire, a*
Fareham, Hampshire, in the 86th year o
her age, 28th June.
Foster, John, Esq. at Beaumont-close
Biggleswado, aged 83, 7th July.
Frankland, Harry Albert, naval cadet o:
Her Majesty's ship Alarm, on board Her
Majesty's steam-sloop Hermes, off Vera
Cruz, of yellow fever, in the 17th year of
his age, 9th May.
Gaff, Major John, late of the 76th Regiment,
at Pimlico, aged 70, 25th June.
Galloway, Jannett, only daughter of the
late Thomas Galloway, Esq. aged 64,
15th July.
Gamier, Brownlow North, second son of the
late Rev. William and Lady Harriett
Garnier, of Rookesbury, Hants, at St.
Margaret's, near Tichfield, in his 44th
year, 28th June.
Gibson, Thomas, Esq. at Putney, aged 29.
Gilbert, William, Esq. at Cranbrook, Kent,
aged 71, 19th July.
Gil pin, Ellen, wife of the Rev. Bernard
Gilpin, jun. of Aldborough, Yorkshire,
and the eldest daughter of James Kendle,
Esq. at Weasenham, Norfolk, in the 35th
year of her age, 15th July.
Gosset, the Rev. Thomas Stephen, M.A.
one of the senior fellows of Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge, at his residence, Corn-
Hamilton, John, youngest son of Major
John Hamilton, late of the 77th Regiment
of Foot, at the residence of his father, 6,
Camden-street North, Camden- town, aged
14 years, 9th July.
Hammack, Arthur Wellesley, youngest son
of John George Hammack, Esq. of Essex-
house, Bow-road, in his 20th year, 19th
July.
Hanmer, Sarah Serra, wife of Lieutenant-
Colonel Hanmer, the only child of the
late Sir M. Ximenes, of Bear-place, Berks,
in Devonshire-place, 29th June.
Hardcastle, the Rev. C. of fever, at Water-
ford, 1st July.
Harden, John, Esq. of Crea, King's County,
Ireland, at Miller-bridge, near A mbleside,
in the 76th year of his age, 1st July.
Mr. Harden, only son of William Harden ,
Esq. of the county of Tipperary, by Jane
his wife, daughter and coheir of Joseph
Webster, Esq. of Crea, King's County,
was 6. 7th March, 1772, and m. 1st Jan.
1803 Jessie, 2nd dau. of the late Robert
Allan, Esq. Banker, of Edinburgh, by
whom he has left issue ; Robert Allan,
late of the Madras Native Infantry ;
Joseph Webster, MA. Vicar of Condover ;
John William, Judge of the County
Court at Warrington ; and two daughters.
Harman, Anna Maria Brisco, second dau.
of John Harman, Esq. of Sussex-square,
18th July.
Harrison, R. Esq. Barrister-at-Law, at
Twickenham, 12th July.
Hart, Major Lockyer Willis, 22nd Regiment
B. N. I. at Paris, in the 43rd year of his
age, 27th June.
Harvey, William Gilmore, Esq. formerly of
Battle, Sussex, at his residence, North-
end, Fulham, in his 89th year, 28th June.
Sawkes, Elizabeth, relict of Robert Hawkes,
Esq. of Norwich, 2nd July.
:lenville; Grace, wife of Charles B. Henville,
Esq. of Winterborne, Dorset, aged 36,
llth July.
ley wood, Anne, relict of the late Nathaniel
wall-terrace, Regent's-park, in his 57th
year, 22nd July.
Gunner, William John, Esq. second son of
R. W. Gunner, (Esq. of Enfield Lock, j
aged 20, 25th June.
Hall, Lucy, the wife of Lieutenant-Colonel
Jasper Hall, and eldest daughter of the
late William Alves, Esq. of Enham-house, |
Hants, at Biebrich, on the Rhine, 30th
June. jHigham, R. P. Esq. at Eltham-place, Lee
Hall, Jessie, relict of the late James Stuart j Green, Kent, aged 67, 23rd June.
Hall, Esq. of Bittern Manor, Hants, llth Hindley, Susan, the younger daughter of
Heywood, Esq. and daughter of the late
Thomas Percival, M.D. F.R.S. at Acres-
field, near Manchester, in the 80th year
of her age, 13th June.
Hicks, William Frederick, Esq. Ceylon
Civil Service, second son of George Hicks,
Esq. formerly of Somerset-street, Port-
man-square, at the Cape of Good Hope,
aged 26, 29th April.
July.
Hamilton, Robert, Esq. of Norwood, aged
72, 14th July.
Hamilton, Jessie, wife
of T. M. M'Niell
Hamilton, Esq. of Raploch, Lanarkshire.
N. B. in Hamilton, aged 21, 2fith June.
Charles Hindley, Esq. M.P. at Brighton,
aged 12 years, 21st June.
Hoare, Mrs. Charles, at Maidstone, aged
57, 29th June.
Holbech, Edward, Esq. late of the Innis-
killen Dragoons, 24th June.
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
193
Hollingwo^h, Francis, Esq. at West Hack-
ney, 14th July.
Horden, Henry William, Esq. at Stamford,
aged 25, 23rd June.
Horsford, Amelia, wife of the Hon. Paul
Horsford, member of her Majesty's Coun-
cil of Antigua, at Marine-place, Dover,
in the 79th year of her age, 2nd July.
Howes, John Baron, the eldest son of John
Baron Howes, Esq. of Irthlingborough-
grange, Northamptonshire, accidentally
drowned in the river near that place, aged
16 years, 1st July.
Hudleston, Harriet, wife of Lieut.-Col. R
Hudleston, H.E.I.C. and second dau. of
the late Rev. Samuel Farewell, of Hole-
brock-house, Somerset, at Ramsgate, after
a lingering illness, 22nd June.
Husband, Thomas, Esq. at Devonport, for
many years a banker and magistrate of
that town, and one of Her Majesty's jus-
tices of the peace for the county of Devon,
aged 86, 16th July.
Jeaffreson, Mrs. John, at Islington, aged
65, 29th June.
Kelly, Dr. of Parsonstown, 14th July.
This gentleman was a very eminent phy-
sician, and for a long series of years en-
joyed one of the most extensive practices
in the central part of Ireland. His skill
in cases of midwifery was universally ac-
knowledged. Dr. Kelly, however, was
not famed for knowledge alone ; his cha-
rity, benevolence, and hospitality, had
obtained him general regard and affection.
The residence of Dr. Kelly was at Par-
sonstown, in the King's County, a place
of continual resort to travellers, in conse-
quence of being the locality of Lord
Rosse's wonderful telescope. Visitors
thither will have cause to regret the Doc-
tor's death, for at his social and intel-
lectual home many a stranger met a cor-
dial and agreeable welcome. Indeed
there are stories told on good authority
of how, on more than one occasion, the
worthy Doctor being called to travellers
taken ill at the inn in his town, has in-
vited them to his house, and never allowed
them to depart until he restored them to
health ; on such occasions he refused all
pecuniary reward for his services, as he
then esteemed the patients his guests.
Dr. Kelly died at Parsonstown, after a
short illness, at a very advanced age. He
leaves behind him a numerous family.
One of his sons is Edmund Meares Kelly,
Esq. a member of the Irish bar, and the
author of a well-known work on the law
relating to Scire Facias.
Kelly, Captain Waldron Barrs, Staff Officer
of Pensioners, and late of the 22nd Regt.
youngest son of Lieutenant-Colonel Kelly,
of Tilbury Fort, at Sligo, Ireland, of
fever, 12th July.
Lane, Emma, eldest daughter of Brevet
Lieut. Colonel John Theophilus Lane,
C.B., of the Bengal Artillery, and grand-
daughter of the late Commissioner Lane,
of the Royal Navy, in her 2 1 st year, at
Paris, on the 16th July.
Lanesborough, Earl of, Brinsley Butler,
fourth Earl of Lanesborough, died re-
cently, at Brislington,near Bristol. His
Lordship was only surviving son of Robt.
Henry, third Earl, by Elizabeth, his wife,
eldest daughter of the Right Hon. David
La Touche, and grandson of Brinsley,
second Earl of Lanesborough, by Jane,
daughter of Robert, first Earl of Belve-
dere. The deceased peer was born 22nd
October, 3783, and had, consequently,
completed his 64th year. Never having
married he is succeeded in his honours
and estates by his cousin, George John
Danvers Butler Danvers, Esq., of Surth-
land Hall, Leicestershire, now fifth Earl
of Lanesborough, who is eldest son of the
late Honourable Augustus Richard But-
ler, by Elizabeth, his first wife, daughter
and heir of Sir John Danvers, Bart. The
new peer was born in 1794, and married
29th August, 1815, Frances Arabella
third daughter of the late Colonel Stephe,
Freemantle. The noble house of Lanen
borough was founded by Sir Stephen
Butler, Knt., who settled in Ireland
temp. James I. He was one of the un-
dertakers for the plantation of the pro-
vince of Ulster ; and, having obtained -
grant of two thousand acres of land in the
county Cavan, erected a baronial castle
of great strength there. Sir Stephen and
his co-undertakers of the precinct of
Loghtee commenced, according to their
agreement, the plantation of a town, at
Belturbet; and, in his time, thirty-five
houses were erected, all inhabited by Bri-
tish tenants, most of whom were trades-
men, each having a house and garden-
plot, with four acres of land, and com-
mons for a certain number of cattle.
Lawford, Rev. John Grant, second son of
the late William Robinson Lawford, Esq.
of Leighton Buzzard, Bedfordshire, at
Brussels, in the 35th year of his age, 23rd
June.
Leahy, David, Esq. Mr. Leahy, by birth
an Irishman, was called to the English
bar by the Hon. Society of Gray's Inn.
The learned gentleman joined theWestern
Circuit : but, though in some practice,
his success was not commensurate with
the great ability he undoubtedly possessed.
As a writer on literary, political, and le-
gal subjects, Mr. Leahy was, however, ac-
tively and continually employed ; and he
was esteemed to possess such deep rooted
forensic and constitutional knowledge,
that he was chosen as one of the counsel
ANNOTATED OBITUAR1.
in the defence' of Mr. O'Connell. The
soundness of his arguments on that occa-
sion was afterwards recognised by the judg-
ment of the House of Lords. The vo-
lume he subsequently published relative
to the trial added much to his reputa-
tion. On the recent establishment of the
Local Courts, Mr. Leahy was appointed
the Judge for the Greenwich and Lam-
beth districts ; and it is much to be la-
mented that he has been snatched away
just as he had attained that position
which his talents entitled him to hold.
Mr. Leahy died on the 21st June, at his
Chambers, in Mitre-Court buildings.
The demise of this excellent person is the
subject of deep regret to a very wide cir-
cle of friends, to whom his high social, as
well as mental qualifications, had en-
deared him.
Littleton, the Hon. Hiacinthe Anna, eldest
dau. of Lord Hatherton, in the 34th year
of her age, 10th July.
Lynch, Dr. Jordan Roche, of Farringdon
street. Distinguished for his advocacy of
Sanitory Regulations, 24th June.
Macdonell, Hugh, Esq., fur many years
British Consul-General at Algiers, at
Florence, on the 3rd June.
Mac Neill, Catherine Alicia L. J. eldest
surviving dau. of Jane Mac Neil! Hamil-
ton, and the late D. H. Mac Neill Ha-
milton, Esq. of Newgrove, county Down,
Ireland, and Raploch, Lanarkshire, N.B.
aged 22, on the 19th June.
Maclean, General Sir Fitzroy, Bart. This
gallant officer, a General in the Army,
and Colonel of the 45th Regiment of
Foot, at his residence in Cadogan place.
Sir Fitzroy succeeded to the Baronetcy
and the Chieftainship of the Macleans
at the decease, in 1818, of his elder bro-
ther, Sir Hector Maclean. He was twice
married : first, to Mrs. Bishop, relict of J.
Bishop, Esq. of Barbadoes, and secondly.
to Frances, widow of Henry Champion,
Esq. of Maling Deanery, Sussex. By
the former he had two sons, Lieutenant-
Colonel Charles Fitzroy Maclean, the
present Baronet of Morvaren ; and Do-
nald, of the Chancery Bar, late M.P. for
Oxford. Sir Fitzroy was a full General,
and wore a medal for his services at Gua-
daloupe. The family, of which he was
the representative, claimed remote anti-
quity. Gaelic Antiquaries assert that its
surname was originally Mac Gillian, and
that it was derived irom the celebrated
Highland warrior Gillian, who was deno-
minated Gillian-ni-Tuoidh, from his ordi-
nary weapon, a battle axe, which some of
his descendants wear to this day in their
crest, betwixt a laurel and cypress branch.
He died on the 5th July.
Murray, Captain James, formerly on the
Bengal Establishment, and during the
last twenty-eight years, superintendent for
the London district of the recruiting staff
of the Hon. East India Company, at
Quatre Bras, near Dorchester, in his 67th
year, 22nd June,
Nicholl, Lieut.-Colonel Edward, late of the
84th Regiment of Foot, in which he
served for forty years in the East and
West Indies, as well as in various other
countries, at Adamsdown, the residence
of his brother, near Cardiff, in his 7 1st
yea-, 23th June.
O'Conor Don, M.P. for the co. of Roscom-
mon, and one of the Lords of the Trea-
sury, of disease of the heart. This re-
spected gentleman was born in May 1794,
the elder son of the late Owen O'Conor
Don, of Belanagare and Clonalis, by Jane
his wife, dau. of James Moore, Esq. of
Mount Browne, co. Dublin. He married
27th August, 1824, Mary, dau. of Mau.
rice Blake, Esq. of Tower Hill, co. Mayo,
and has left two sons, and five daughters.
Of his illustrious ancestry, we have given
particulars under this Month's " Frag-
ments of Family History." 21st July.
Peacock, Mary, wife of Wilkinson Peacock,
Esq. and eldest dau. of the late Colonel
Affleck, of Cavendish Hall, Suffolk, at
Thorpe Tylney, Lincolnshire. 8th July.
Peters, James, jun. Esq. barrister_at-law,
St. John's, eldest son of the Hon. Chas.
Jeffrey Peters, Her Majesty's Attorney
General for the province of New Bruns
wick, at the residence of Robert Bell, Esq-
Fountain-Bridge, Edinburgh, 3rd July.
Phillips, Mary Anne Hawkes, wife of Phil-
lip Loveil Phil'ips, Esq. M.D. of fever, at
Arezzo, in Tuscany, on route from Rome
to Florence, aged 33, 7lh June.
Pollock, Sir David, Knt. Chief Justice of
Bombay, in May last, at Bombay, of liver
complaint, after a sojourn only of eight
months in India, where he was appointed
last year as Chief Judge at the Presidency
of Bombay, in succession to Sir Henry
Roper. Sir David Pollock who was elder
brother of Chief Baron Pollock, of Gene-
ral Sir George Pollock, and of Mr. J. H.
Pollock, was born in 1780, and educated
at Edinburgh Collie. In 1802, he wtss
called to the Bar, and for many years
went the Home Circuit. Besides parlia-
mentary business, in which at one time
he had extensive practice, Sir I>avid Pol-
lock devoted considerable time to the
Insolvent Debtor's Court, and some
three or four years ago was appointed a
Commissioner of that Court, which he
continued to fill till last year, he was
nominated to the Chief Justiceship of
Bombay, in succession to Sir Henry
Roper ; and few judges have given such
universal satisfaction to all classes, both
Native and European, or become so re-
vered even in a short sojourn of eight
months as the learned gentleman. Prayers
were offered up by the native population
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
1S5
for his restoration to health, and his
funeral which took place on the 22nd was
attended by the Governor of Bombay,
the Coramander-in-Chief, Sir Erskine
Perry, the Hon. J. P. Willoughby, the
Advocate-General, and Dr. Lark worthy,
as pall-bearers, besides many hundreds
of sorrowing friends. Sir David was in
his 68th year, was a Queen's Coun-
sel, and a Bencher of the Middle Temple,
Qnillinan, Mrs. wife of Edward Quillinan,
Esq. This lady was the author of a
" Journal of a few Months' Residence in
Portugal," &c. recently published. She
died of a rapid decline, at Rydal Mount,
Ambleside, at the house of her father,
William Wordsworth, Esq. (the laureate),
9th July.
Radcliffe, Mary, dau. of John Radcliffe,
Esq. of Cheltenham, IGth June.
Reay, Lord, after a short illness, aged 74, on
the 8th July. His lordship, who died at
his seat, Goldings, Herts, was eldest son
of the Hon. George Mackay, of Skibo,
M. P. Master of the Mint of Scotland, by
Anne, his wife, daughter of Eric Suther-
land, only son of the attaintedLord Duffus,
and inherited »the family honours at the
decease of his cousin. Hugh, sixth Lord,
in 1797. He was never married, and is,
consequently, succeeded by his next bro-
ther, the Hon. Alexander Mackay, Bar-
rack Master at Malta, who married, in
1809, Mrs. Ross, widow of David Ross,
Esq. of Calcutta, and has Eric, and
several other children. The very ancient
family from which derived the nobleman
' whose death we record held possessions in
the north of Scotland seven centuries
ago, which possessions were originally
denominated Strathnaver, but more re-
cently Lord Reay's country. The great
influence, however, of the Mackays may
be attributed to the celebrated Donald
Mackay, characterised by historians as
" a great general, and a wise and political
gentleman." This personage was at the
battle of Solway Moss, and returned with
the King to Edinburgh three days after
the conflict, when his Majesty bestowed
upon him, in requital of his faithful
services, the forfeited lands of several
individuals, by charter dated 28th Nov.
1845. Sir Donald Mackay, of Far, the
first Lord Reay, was a distinguished sol-
dier of his time, and took an active part
during the ci vil war, in favour of Royalty ;
but, being one of those excepted from
pardon in the treaty between the Cove-
nanters and King Charles, he was obliged
to retire to Denmark, where he died, in
1649.
Rudyerd, Colonel Samuel, of the Royal
Artillery, at the residence of his brother-
in-law, C. Richardson, Esq. Field House,
Whitty, Yorkshire, 19th July. This
distinguished officer, who served most
gallantly under the Duke of Wellington
in all his campaigns from India to the
plains of Waterloo, descended lineally
from the anicent family of Rudyard, of
Rudyerd.hall, near Leek, in Staifordshire,
where they were seated long before the
Conquest, and of undoubted Saxon
origin, and was connected with almost
all the ancient barons and nobility of
Great Britain, through their marriages
with the Harringtons of Exton, &c., &c.
Colonel Rudyerd was the son of the late
General Rudyerd, of the Royal Engi-
neers, and cousin of the late General Sir
Charles Shepley, of the same corps,
whose mother, Miss Jane Rudyerd, who
married Captain Richard Shipley, of
Copt hall, Luton, Beds, became heiress
of that branch of the family, descending
from Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, the cele-
brated poet and speaker in the long par
liament, who was the last surveyor of
the court of wards and liveries) upon the
death of her only brother Captain Benja-
min Rudyerd, of the Coldstream Guards,
aid-de camp to Lord Stair at the battle
of Dettingen. Colonel Samuel Rudyerd,
whose death we now record, being a
descendant of Benjamin Rudyerd, Esq.,
of Westwoodhay, in Berks, the grand son
of Benjamin Rudyerd, by his second
marriage with Miss Beaumont of York-
shire ; his first wife, from whom the late
Sir Charles Shipley descended, having
been the eldest daughter and co-heiress
of Sir Benjamin Maddux of Worm ley, in
Herts, Bar t.
Slanev, Eliz.wife of Robt. A. Slariey, Esq.,
of Walford-manor, Shropshire, aged 62,
20th July. Mrs. Slaney was only child
of William Hawkins Muccleston, M.D.,
and sole heiress of her uncle, Joseph,
Muccleston, Esq. of Walford, High She-
riff of Shropshire, in 1788. Her mar-
riage took place in 1812 : and its issue
was three daughters, Elizabeth Frances,
wife of Thomas Campbell Eyton, Esq.,
Mary, m. to Wm. Watkin Edw. Wynne,
Esq. of Peniarth, and Frances Caroline.
Stopford, Admiral, the Hon, Sir Robert,
G.C.B., G.C.M.G., Vice-Admiral of the
United Kingdom and Governor of
Greenwich Hospital, in the 80th year of
his age, 25th June. This distinguished
officer, died on Friday morning, the 25th
June, at Richmond, Surrey, whither he
had removed for change of air. He was
third son of James, second Earl of Cour-
town, and uncle of the present peer. The
deceased admiral was born in 1768.
Entering the navy at an early age, he
served as midshipman in the Prince
196
ANNOTATED OBITUARY.
George in Rodney's actions, and obtained j Col. Target, at Caen, France, 24th June.
Tatham, Mrs. Sarah, of Bedford Place, 4th
his commission as Lieutenant in 1785.
He subsequently commanded succes.
sively the Lowestoff", the Aquilon, and
the Phaton, under Lords Howe and
Cornwallis, and performed many gallant
and important services to his country.
In 1803, he was appointed to the Spencer,
and was employed off Ferrol and Co-
runna ; the following year he was nomi-
nated Colonel of Marines; and, in 1806,
participated in Sir John Duckworth's
brilliant action off St. Domingo, where
he was severely wounded. Captain Stop-
ford's next service was in the Exhibition
against Copenhagen, under Admiral Par-
ker and Lord Nelson. Having been ad-
vanced to the rank of Rear- Admiral, in
1808, he was appointed to command the
Channel Fleet, during which he block-
aded a French squadron in Aix Roads ;
for which exploit, and his conduct in an
attack upon the enemy, he received the
thanks of parliament. In 1810, Admiral
Stopford was nominated to the command
of the squadron at the Cape. Subse-
quently, he commanded the naval forces
at the capture of Java. In 1813, the
gallant officer returned to England — was
madeaK.C.B. in 1815, and became Full
Admiral in 1825> and a G.C.B. in 1831.
Admiral Stopford continued to serve his
country in the Mediterranean, where he
held the naval command for some time,and
was engaged at the capture of St. Jean
d'Acre, in 1840. For his services on this
occasion he was a second time honoured
with the thanks of parliament. After
retiring from the command in the Medi-
terranean, Sir Robert was appointed
Governor of Greenwich Hospital, wl ich
office he held up to the time of his de-
cease. Besides the British honours con-
ferred upon the gallant Admiral, he re-
ceived from the Emperor Nicholas the
July.
Temple, Sir Grenville, formerly Lieutenant
Colonel of the 15th Hussars, died at
Constance, in Switzerland, aged 48, on the
7th June. He was the eldest son of the
late Sir Grenville Temple, 9th Baronet,
whose father, Sir John Temple, succeeded
to the title in 1786, at the decease of his
kinsman, Sir Richard Temple. The
Baronet just deceased was born 20th July,
1799, married 5th May, J829, Mary,
daughter of George Baring, Esq., brother
of Lord Ashburton, by whom he leaves a
large family, the eldest son of which is the
present Sir Grenville Leofric Temple,
Bart., an officer in the Royal navy, born
in 1830. The ancient family of Temple
derives its surname from the manor of
Temple, co. Leicester, and deduces its
descent from Leofric, Earl of Chester,
who lived in the reign of Edward the
Confessor. The Leofric married the
celebrated Godiva, of Coventry notoriety,
who is said to have appeased the wrath
of her offended lord, and to have obtained
a restitution of privileges for the good
citizens of Coventry, by exhibiting on
horseback, in the simple habiliments of
Eve, to the confusion of an unlucky knight
of the needle, whom tradition hath stricken
blind for presuming to peep. Certain it is
that pictures of the earl and his countess
were set up in the south window of Trinity
Church, in that ancient city, about the
reign of Richard II., more than three
centuries after the occurrence of the
supposed event ; his Lordship holding a
charter in the right hand, with the words,
I, Lurick, for love of thee
Do set all Coventry toll-free.
And there is still a yearly procession of a
naked figure observed by the grateful
citizens on Friday after Trinity Sunday.
Order of St. George, Second Class; from Walker, Reginald John, Esq. a Lieut, in
the King of Prussia, the Grand Cross of
the Red Eagle; and was nominated a
Knight Commander of the Order of Maria '
Theresa, in 1841. Sir Robert Stopford
married, 29th June, 1809, Mary, dau.
of Robert Fanshawe, Esq., by which lady
the Bengal Engineers, and Assistant Sur-
veyor in the great trigonometrical survey
of India. He was the fifth son of the
late John Walker, Esq. of Purbrook-park,
Hants, at Bernangora, near Darjeling, in
the East Indies, aged 24, 24th April.
he leaves three sons, viz.— Robert Fan- Walton, Mr., the Stage Manager of the
shawe, Captain in the Navy; James
Jo:m, also a Captain in the Navy ; and
Arthur Fanshawe; and several daughters
of whom the eldest, Christiana Fanshawe,
is married to the Rev. William F. Doug-
las, third son of Sir H. Douglas, Bart. ;
and the third, Henrietta Maria, is widow
of Lord Henry Russell, R.N., who died
in 1842.
Stratton, William, Esq. at Aberdeen, aged
87, 13th July.
Target, Madame S. M. widow of the late
Princess' Theatre, and an actor of more
than ordinary merit there. His death,
. which occurred on the 17th instant, hap-
pened under melancholy circumstances.
He had been suffering from a painful
disease, and he was in the habit of taking
x laudanum and morphia to allay the
torment. An over dose proved fatal to
him : he died in his 48th year.
Yates. John Henry, Esq. at Woburn- square,
aged 37, 21st June.
THE PATRICIAN.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
(Continued.}
THE theory of the law is, that surnames, like air or light, are publici juris,
subjects in which even occupation and possession do not give exclusive
property ; the claim to bear peculiar cognizances or arms was, it is pro-
bable, in the origin of the practice, similarly regarded.
The assumption or change of a surname is at the present day, and has
been always, notwithstanding a vulgar notion to the contrary, a matter
of common law right ; nor is it restricted by anything but the potent in-
fluence of public opinion, which has very properly always attached a
certain degree of discredit to any attempt to confuse identity, or oblite-
rate the traces of a past career. Whenever, therefore, upon just cause a
British subject seeks to take a surname, not his by birth, he for the most
part does so by adopting a course in itself of the highest notoriety ; in
other words, he obtains the license of the Crown, which is gazetted in
due form, or he obtains an Act of Parliament.
" Welsh families/' says Mr. Grimaldi *, " are more- known by their arms
than by their names, and even in English families, many persons of the
same house can only now be classed with their proper families, by an
inspection of the arms they bore on their seals, shields, and the like."
So in the popular commotions at Florence, the cry of the adherents of
the Medici was taken, not from the surname but the arms, of that family,
« Palle, Palle."
At first, armorial bearings were probably like surnames, assumed
by each warrior at his free will and pleasure 5 and as his object would
be to distinguish himself and his followers from others, his cognizance
would be respected by the rest, either out of an innate courtesy or a
feeling of natural justice, disposing men to recognise the right of first
occupation, or really from a positive sense of the inconvenience of being
identified or confounded with those to whom no common tie united them ;
where, however, remoteness of stations kept soldiers aloof, and extensive
boundaries, and different classes of enemies from without, subdivided the
force of a kingdom into many distinct bands and armies, opportunities of
comparing and ascertaining what ensigns had been already appropriated
would be lost, and it well might happen, even in the same country, that
various families might be found unconsciously using the same arms.
* Origines Genealogicee, p. 82.
VOL. IV. NO. XVII. Q,
198 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
And so it was with the three English families of Car mi now, Scrope, and
Grosvenor, the members of each of which were probably ignorant that
there were any rival claimants to their heraldic honours, until by the
French and Scottish wars they were brought together, and confronted
upon the same field and in the same encampment.
The Court of Chivalry, it may be presumed, offered the first barrier to
a party assuming the martial cognizances of another,but the assumption of
new arms by one who never before had borne any, received its first check, as
far as we know, from the writ of Henry V., which regulated coat armour,
and prohibited their use, except where justified by ancestral right and
use, (jure antecessorio), or by grants from competent authority. It
appears from the commencement of that writ, that many persons had
assumed these insignia, who neither by themselves nor their ancestors
had previously enjoyed them. There is nothing to show what sense was
attached to the vague expression jus antecessorium, or by what evidence
it was expected to be supported.
Our neighbours on the Continent appear to have preceded, or, at least,
excelled, us in the martial exercises of the tourney and joust, and an early
chronicle records of Prince Henry, the son of Henry I., who was after-
wards drowned at sea, that he was in the habit of visiting France every
third year, in order to take part " in conflictibus Gallicis." It was
Richard I. who perceiving the inferiority of his subjects in such encoun-
ters, rectified the evil by his ordinances for jousts and tournaments.
The subsequent prevalence of these fashionable recreations, mimicking
" War's magnificently stern array," was not unlikely to bring into fre-
quent use one of the functions of this Court of Chivalry, that which re-
spected the regulating and marshalling of coat armour.
Armorial bearings are to the eye what names are to the ear j in the
first assumer or grantee, they may be taken to resemble Christian names,
suggestive merely of the personal history and private qualities of the
bearer; in their descent, however, they are quasi surnames and additions
of honour, and become the external expression, not merely of individual
but of collective worth and prowess, and of connexion with an ancestry,
which could in no other mode be so becomingly and inobtrusively pre-
sented to observation, as by those silent yet eloquent mementos of an
extant or a bygone race, crests and quarterings.
The bearing of coats of arms has been most whimsically styled "that
extraordinary phrenzy of the human mind." Would we know the
martial purpose of the invention ? It is at hand. " The end of heraldic
insignia," says Borghini, " is to distinguish the bearer from his ene-
mies, and make him recognizable by his friends." A good custom
may survive its utility, but no custom ever became universal that
was not founded upon some general principles of public conve-
nience. In this respect a custom differs from a law, which may in
particular cases have originated in the tyranny, the lust, the shame, the
malignity of a despot. A custom is a different thing j it must have
originated in necessity, and been sanctioned by general consent. Why,
however, do we find so high a degree of importance attached to the
preserving intact a right to bear particular arms ? Those arms were an
evidence, popularly speaking, almost conclusive, not merely of descent
but of nobility. This was one reason j another was, that in the earlier
period of our history, a right to coat armour carried with it important
privileges as to the use of offensive and defensive arms in the case of
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
199
trials by battle; it gave also the solid advantages of "honour, repu-
tation, and place," and these are the very terms used in the Statute of
Precedence passed in the reign of King Henry VIII. " There was one
James Parker, a servant in court to King Henry VII., that had accused
Hugh Vaughan (one of the gentleman ushers of the said king), unto the
king of some undutiful words spoken by him of the said king. Where-
upon the person accused challenged combat with the accuser ; and be-
cause he was not a coat armour gentleman, Sir John Wriotheslye, then
principal king-at-arms, gave unto the said Hugh Vaughan a coat armour,
with helm and timber, the 14th of October, 1490, anno 6 Hen. VII.
Whereupon the said king sent for the said Garter, and demanded of him,
whether he had made any such patent or no? who answered, that he had
made such arms. Whereupon the king's highness, in his most royal
person, in open justice at Richmond, before all his lords, allowed and
admitted the said grant made by Garter, and likewise allowed the said
Hugh Vaughan to run with the said James Parker, who was at the said
time slain by the said Vaughan in the said jousts.7'* Had this grant of
arms not been allowed, it would rather seem that Vaughan would have
had to meet his steel-clad opponent in a simple buff jerkin, and with
inferior weapons.
No doubt, in the present day, all the advantages of the institution
have not survived
" The old world changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world."
TENNYSON'S Mone d' Arthur.
This is an age of pictorial illustration, and when we appreciate the ad-
vantages of being made to comprehend at a glance what it would other-
wise require hours of steady attention, as listeners or as readers, to ob-
tain an idea of, no wonder that heraldry has again become in some
measure a popular study -} not only does it breathe the spirit of a by-
gone, a generous age, and powerfully suggest its influence, which to ap-
preciate is to share j but its devices are a compendious mode of con-
veying information upon an interesting subject.
" Would that I were a painter, to be grouping
All that the poet drags into detail." — BYRON.
How much historical description and genealogical narrative does a
little herald painting save us ! But it is not merely on this score that
the present practice is to be vindicated. The genealogical utility of
ancient armorial bearings and quarterings has long been recognized by
our lawyers. " I know three families," says Biglandf, " who have ac-
quired estates by virtue of preserving the arms and escutcheons of their
ancestors." So in the Huntingdon peerage case (p. 359), a very old
armorial shield, emblazoned with the armorial ensigns of the Earls of
Huntingdon, which included those of Stanley, was received as evidence
of a marriage between the two families. But if this utility is thus ad-
mitted at the present day, what greater importance must have been
attached to such evidences at a time when the heralds were still unincor-
* Hearne's Collections, vol. ii. p. 168.
Biglaml on Parochial Registers, 1767.
Q 2
200 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
porated, and no such thing as parochial registers existed, when all knights
could not read, nor all nobles write ?
When Sir William Scrope saw a Frenchman in his bearings, well might
that doughty knight feel touchy on the subject : the force of this very
natural feeling was admitted by Cromwell, Earl of Essex, at a much later
period. He had no paternal shield of arms, and when some obsequious
heralds would have entitled him to the arms of Cromwell of Lincolnshire,
extinct long before, his answer was, " He would not wear another man's
coat, for fear the owner should pluck it off his ears ;" and he took a fresh
grant of arms.
The question, What's in a name? implies a sophism that the blindness
of passionate love could alone overlook. What's in an armorial bearing?
exclaims many a man who does not scorn to bear, without right, the
thing that he affects to despise. Is he curious to learn the answer of
Anglo-Norman antiquity, let him consult the roll in the case of Scrope
and Grosvenor.
Although some inaccuracies have crept into the accounts of the early
branches of the family of Grosvenor, owing to genealogists having
occasionally confounded the Latin patronymics of the two distinct families
of Venables and Grosvenor, (Venatores and Grossovenatores), there is
still light enough to enable us to distinguish the remote antiquity of either
stock. The family of Grosvenor at a very early date, long before the right
of Sir Robert Grosvenor to bear the arms " azure a bend or" was chal-
lenged by Sir Richard Scrope, had become divided into the branches of
the Grosvenors of Hulme (of which was Sir Robert the defendant in the
suit) and the Grosvenors of Budworth. The antiquity of the latter
branch is undeniable; its founder Robert le Grosvenor appears in an
ancient charter as the grantee of the manor of Budworth from Hugh
Kevelioc Earl of Chester 1160 — 1181. At the time of the controversy
now under review, this branch had no longer a male lineal representative,
but its honours had descended upon coheiresses who had intermarried into
some of the oldest houses in Cheshire, the Venables of Bradwall and
Alvanley, the Bromleys and the Del Meres. The precise point of con-
nexion between the Budworth and the Hulme branches, is by the confes-
sion of family and county historians not now discoverable.* But that
the connexion did once exist is evident by the whole tenor of the Grosve-
nor depositions in the suit of arms.
According to the pedigree of the Grosvenors of Hulme, compiled by
Sir Peter Leycester, which as it accords with the depositions of the
Abbot of Vale Royal in this cause, Leycester probably drew from the
same source, their first progenitor was Gilbert le Grosvenor a nephew
of Hugh Lupus, first Earl of Chester, himself a nephew of the Conqueror.
Of Gilbert a Robert was son and heir, to whom succeeded his son
Henry, who had a son upon whom the representation of the Hulme
branch devolved.
There appears some confusion as to the name of this the fourth person-
age in descent, the Abbot of Vale Royal says Raufe; an ancient deed terms
his son Richard, the son of Handle (filius Ranulfi Grossovenatoris.) Sir
Peter Leycester says Raufe or Randle Grosvenor ; Collins falls into palpa-
ble error here, introducing an unauthorized Robert; Ormerod suggests
that Ralph and Randle may have been grandfather and father of Richard
* See Ormerod's Cheshire, vol. ii. p. 115, note c.
I
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 201
\vhodied about 1269, and from whom the descent is clear ; hut the con-
jecture, however plausible, cannot be presumed to be accurate in opposi-
tion to the positive deposition of a witness so near the time and so likely
to be well informed as the Abbot of Vale Royal.
Raufe or Randle is said by one of the deponents to have been en-
gaged in 1141, on the part of his kinsman and local prince Randle II.,
in the battle of Lincoln where he wore the arms before mentioned, and to
have been also engaged in the battle in which the said earl was taken
prisoner in 1143. That he wore the bearings in question in the battle
of Lincoln, may be believed by those who esteem heraldic devices as of
that antiquity, but the character of human testimony being substantial
truth under circumstantial variety, the whole evidence of the witness is
not to be altogether disbelieved because in this particular questionable or
inaccurate. For if so, to be consistent we must also discredit the
evidences of the Scrope witnesses who, anxious to speak for the antiquity
of the arms, refer their origin to the reign of a fabulous Prince
(Arthur.)*
Richard le Grosvenor (the son of Ralph or Randle) from whom the
descent is clear, lived 1269, and left a son,
Robert, who was sheriff of Cheshire 12, 13 and 14 Edward I., he died
1284 : by his wife Margery he left a son,
Robert Grosvenor, of Ruddeheath, under age 21 Edward I.; according
to the evidence of Leycester he had served and borne the arms in
question in Scotland temp. Edward II. He died about 1 342, having been
twice married ; by his second wife, Emma,daughter of William Mobberley,
coheiress to her mother and to Sir Raufe Mobberley, he left a son
Raufe Grosvenor, Esq., who died about 30 Edward III., 1356, and was
buried in Nether Peover ; by his wife Joan he left a son, the defendant in
the cause of arms.
Sir Robert Grosvenor, Knight, was under age at the time of his father's
death, and became ward of Sir John Daniell, who married him to his
daughter Joan , She either died before he came to maturity or before
she had any issue by him, and he subsequently married Joan, daughter
of Sir Robert Pulford and sister and heiress of John Pulford and widow
of Thomas son of John de Belgrave, a match which appears to have
occasioned some little stir, for we find one of the adverse witnesses (Sir
Matthew Redman) deposing that the first time he heard speak of Sir
Robert was when some one observed that he was to marry the Lady of
Pulford.f
There is good ground for supposing that this marriage and that of Sir
Robert's grandfather with the heiress of Mobberley, coupled with the
failure of the male line of the Grosvenors of Budworth, were the chief
cause of the prominence of the Hulme branch.
The direct line of the Grosvenors of Hulme terminating also in
coheiresses, the inheritance of the name remained with Ralph Grosvenor
Esq. of Eaton, jure uxoris the lineal descendant of the defendant in the
suit of arms and the progenitor of the present noble house of Grosvenor.
In the year 1395, John Lord Lovel challenged the arms of Thomas Lord
Moriey, and in the first instance by word of mouth j the defendant com-
plaining of this course, the Court directed the claimant to reduce his
* See deposition of Sir Thomas Fychet, vol. ii. p. G2. f Vol. ii. p. 460,
202 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
challenge to writing.* All the proceedings in the Scrope case seem to
have been in writing, with a single exception, for from a memorandum of
the proceedings in a MS. in the Lansdowne Collection, 85, pi. 758, it
appears that in the first instance Sir Robert Grosvenor appealed from the
sentence of the Constable to the king orally (sub certa forma verborum
viva voce) the appeal was afterwards embodied in a more regular form in
writing. In that first mentioned case the parties consented to the follow-
ing mode of proofs. " Sepultures Testimonies of Abbots and other
ecclesiastical persons and other honourable witnesses who have had notice
of their ancestors and antiquity, and paynted tombs, testaments and
other evidences, besides the testimonies of Lords, Knights, Esquires of
honour and gentlemen having knowledge of arms, and no other men of
common or lower estate, and all the witnesses to be sworn except the
Dukes of Lancaster, York, and Earl of Derby."
In the Scrope and Grosvenor case a somewhat similar course seemsto
have been adopted, nor do we believe that of the 40O witnesses who
made depositions even one was of lower estate than " a gentleman
having knowledge of arms/' The first and most puissant witness for
Scrope was John of Gaunt, — we give the deposition entire.
" John, by the grace of God, KING OF CASTILE AND LEON, DUKE OF
LANCASTER, being prayed, and, according to the Law of Arms, required,
by the proctor of Sir Richard le Scrope, to testify the truth between the
said Sir Richard and Sir Robert Grosvenor in a controversy between them
concerning the arms ' Azure a bend Or,' do verily testify, that at the
time when We were armed in battles and other journeysf in divers
countries, We have seen and known that the said Sir Richard hath borne
his arms ' Azure, a bend Or ;' and that many of his name and lineage
have borne the same name and arms, on banner, pennon, and coat armour ;
and that We have heard from many noble and valiant men, since deceased,
that the said arms were of right the arms of his ancestors and himself
at the time of the Conquest and since. And, moreover, We say and
testify, that at the last expedition in France of our most dread lord and
father, on whom God have mercy, a controversy arose concerning the
said arms between Sir Richard le Scrope aforesaid, and one called Car-
minow of Cornwall, which Carminow challenged those arms of the
said Sir Richard, the which dispute was referred to six knights, now as
IJ think, dead, who upon true evidence found the said Carminow to be
descended of a lineage armed ' Azure abend Or,' since the time of King
Arthur ; and they found that the said Sir Richard was descended of a
right line of ancestry armed with the said arms, ' Azure a bend Or,' since
the time of King William the Conqueror j and so it was adjudged that
* See the proceedings Harl. MS. 4268. One question raised by the replication in this
cause was whether a man can grant or sell his arms to the prejudice of his posterity.
t In the original " journee." This word is generally used to describe an action with
the enemy in the field, of rather less importance than a general battle. It has been
anglicized by " journey," William of Worcester, speaking of the battle of St. Albans
in 1455, says, '* All the lords that died at the journey are buried at St. Albans." Paston
Letters, i. 109. — '* Anno 12 Henry VI. This same yere aboughte Witsontyd, the
Lollardes of Prage were distroyd, for at too journeys there were sclayn of them mo
thane xxtt M1 with there cheveteynes."— Chronicle of London, 4to. 1827, p. 120. The
word journey also frequently occurs in another chronicle of the sixteenth century , where
an account is given of the " journies that were done after the Kyng landid at Caleis,"
(anno 8 Hen. VI.) whence its import may be fully understood. Ibid. p. 170.
{ It is remarkable that in this part of his deposition, Lancaster is made to speak in
the first person singular.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. <-203
both might bear the arms entire. But We have not seen or heard that
the said Sir Robert, or any of his name, bore the said arms before the
last expedition in Scotland with our lord the King."
The evidence of the ecclesiastics, Abbots and Priors, on each side is
most important upon the point of descent, but this we must pass over.
Neither have we space for any comment upon the interesting testimony
of Chaucer.
" Geoffrey Chaucer, Esq., of the age of forty and upwards, armed
twenty-seven years, being asked whether the arms, Azure, a bend Or,
belonged to Sir Richard Scrope, said yes, for he saw him so armed in
France before the town of Retters, and Sir Henry Scrope armed in the
same arms with a white label, and with banner ; and the said Sir Richard
armed in the entire arms, and so during the whole expedition, until the
said Geoffrey was taken. Being asked how he knew that the arms
appertained to Sir Richard, said that he had heard old kaights and
esquires say that they had had continual possession of the said arms j
and that he had seen them displayed on banners, glass, paintings, and
vestments, and commonly called the arms of Scrope. Being asked
whether he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by Sir
Robert Grosvenor or his ancestors, said no, but that he was once in
Friday Street, London, and walking through the street, he observed a
new sign hanging out with these arms thereon, and inquired ' what inn
that was that had hung out these arms of Scrope ?' and one answered him,
saying, ' They are not hung out, Sir, for the arms of Scrope, nor painted
there for those arms, but they are painted and put there by a Knight of
the county of Chester, called Sir Robert Grosvenor j* and that was the
first time that he ever heard speak of Sir Robert Grosvenor, or his an-
cestors, or of any one bearing the name of Grosvenor."
Thomas de Horneby, called by Grosvenor, said that he knew neither
Sir Robert Grosvenor nor his ancestors, not being himself of the county
of Chester.*
William Hesilrigg, Esq. had seen Scropes armed in the army at
Cressy, where there were many good knights of the county of Chester,
and many good archers, who neither at that time nor afterwards gainsaid
the said arms.
Sir Andrew Luttriell, senior, Knight, had never heard any good or ill
of Grosvenor or his ancestors.
Amongst the deponents, of whom notices are reserved by Sir Harris
Nicolas for a future and concluding volume, is Johan de Holand, Esquier.
We conclude this individual to have been the John de Holand whose
singular adventures with a Frenchman of the name of Roye is men-
tioned by Froissard. Engaged together in a joust of arms, John de
Holland's lance three times bore away the helmet of his antagonist, leaving
him bareheaded but without injury ; upon examination it was discovered
that the Frenchman designedly omitted the usual fastenings that attached
the casque to the armour. Complaint was made of this proceeding as
unfair, but John of Gaunt, in whose presence the matter occurred, refused
to interfere, although he seems to have deemed it an improper use of
the defensive arms 5 and from a subsequent passage in Froissard one is
led to believe that the trick was several times afterwards practised.
Sir John Gyldesburgh deposes that when he was twelve years old and
* Vol. ii. p. 303.
204 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
went to school at Oxenford he saw there the commencement of a clerk
hearing the name Le Scrope, and that there were trumpeters there
having attached to their trumpets pennoncels with the said arms, and
the clerks demanded whose arms these were, when it was stated that they
were the arms of Le Scrope.
Another of the Scrope witnesses was John Lord Lovel, already referred
to, as himself engaged in a similar cause of arms.
Another deponent is a Sir Ralph Vernon, Knight, perhaps the illegiti-
mate son, who yet succeeded to his father's interest in the barony of
Shipbrooke by grant from his father and sister, he survived to the age of
150 years, and is styled in Cheshire collections, the long liver and Old Sir
Ralph. He outlived sons, grandsons, and great grandsons ; his great-
great-grandson Sir Ralph Vernon, Knight, called young Sir Ralph, suc-
ceeded him in his estates. Old Sir Ralph the deponent, it is presumed,
had for his second wife, (some say concubine,) Maud Grosvenor, by several
pedigrees made the sister of Robert Grosvenor of Budworth.
According to an entry of Augustine Vincent preserved in Woodnoth's
Collections, p. 58, b., the age would seem as correctly given.
" This was sr Raufe Vernon yo Olde, the quick levet ** years and x yeare ;
and he had to his first wife one Mary yo lords doghter of Dacre, and he had
issue by her on sr Raufe yo Vernon of Hanewell, Maister Richard persone
of Stockport, oy two sonnes Nicholl and Hugh yo quick were both freres
and two daughters Agatha and Rose. Then deghet the foreset Mary and
after her death yo foreset sr Raufe tooke to pa'neore one Maude yo Gros-
venor and had issue by her Richard and Robert, bastards."
We have not been able to find any other knight of the family of
Vernon whose Christian name coincides, that would better correspond
with the deponent Raufe Vernon, Chival'. It is remarked in the parti-
cular instance of Chaucer, that his age in the deposition was not given
with accuracy ; the same may be true of Vernon, who, if he was the
party in question, must then have been much older than forty-six years,
and would hardly have been justified in styling himself as de 1'age de 46 et
plus, when he must have completed double that period : very old gentle-
men are, however, sometimes loth to admit the precise day of their
birth, and, perhaps, this shrewd old knight, knowing that a date fre-
quently fixes a fact, wished the illegitimacy of his origin to be lost in
the mist of years : vain hope, stands it not recorded in judicial records
and county collections !
The deposition of John Thirlewalle is so remarkable in many respects,
that we cannot omit, even at the risk of an almost unreasonable pro-
lixity, to give a portion of it at length. His father, if his testimony or
the fidelity of the copyist of the roll be not impeachable, attained so ad-
vanced a period of life as to make him a worthy competitor with " Olde
Sir Ralph Vernon," already alluded to, in the race of longevity $ hut it
must be remembered, that in a case of this kind, it would be the object
of a party to procure the evidence of the oldest witnesses — their greater
age lending an additional value to their testimony.
" John Thirlewalle, of the age of fifty-four, armed thirty-two years
and more, being asked whether the arms Azure, a bend Or, belonged to
Sir Richard Scrope, said, certainly, and that he would well prove it by
evidence ; for the grandfather of the said Sir Richard, who was named
William Le Scrope, was made a knight at Falkirk in Scotland under the
banner of the good King Edward with the Longshanks, as his (the De-
THE SCROPE AND GROSI1ENOR CONTROVERSY. 205
ponent's) father told and shewed him before his death, for his father was
through old age bedridden, and could not walk for some time before his
decease 3 and whilst he so lay he heard some one say that people said
that the father of Sir Richard was no gentleman because he was the
King's Justice ; and his (Deponent's) father called his sons before him,
of whom he the said John was the youngest of all his brethren, and said,
' My sons, I hear that some say that Sir Henry Scrope is no great gen-
tleman because he is a man of the law, but I tell you certainly, that his
father was made a knight at Falkirk in these arms, Azure, a bend Or,
and they are descended from great and noble gentlemen j and if any one
say otherwise, do ye testify that I have said so of truth, upon faith and
loyalty j and if I were young I would hold and maintain my saying to
the death.' And his (the Deponent's) father, when he died, was of the
age of seven score and five, [** ans & v.] and was when he died the
oldest esquire of all the North, and had been armed during sixty-nine
years, and has been dead forty-four years."
Here we have another indication of the military feeling', so prevalent
in that age, that prompted men to disparage the law, as if gentle blood
and that profession were hardly compatible ; men said, " Sir Henry
Scrope is no gentleman, because he is a man of the law." " He is not a
gentleman, but the King's Justice." And yet, perhaps, in the particular
instance, it was only an exemplification of the coxcombry of the young
" bloods " of the time, which received a fitting rebuke from the dying
lips of the aged warrior, the veteran esquire, " the oldest of all the
North," who had seen Scrope wielding with credit both the pen and the
sword, and, perhaps, had heard him priding himself, in spite of the sneers
of his illiterate comrades, on the rare union of these opposite accom-
plishments, and mentally ejaculating with Dante's hero,
" Assai con senno feci e con la spada."
And so even in this age (how different !) our young cocks, to borrow an
expression of Sir Walter Scott, in a letter tvi his son, crow after the
same fashion, and the man of action derides the man of contemplation,
'* the patient bookworm," and sneers at the process
" Slow, exhausting thought
And hiving wisdom with each studious year." — BYRON.
Not so the truly wise. In a later but not an unchivalrous age, that hero
whose ashes still lie (shame to Scotland) in a nameless grave, upon
whose shoulders the mantle of loyal and chivalrous feeling descended, as
to a legitimate self-elected champion, the great Montrose, scorned not
the double grace, and thus addressed the object of his affections :
" For if no faithless action stain,
Thy truth and plighted word,
I'll make thee famous with my pen,
And glorious with my sword."
To return. Little did those scornful men foresee, that it would not be
long before members of the profession of which they affected to think so
lightly would be self-dubbed, and without question, " Esquires by office;"
nay, would be entitled to take rank, by the sanction of the Earl Marshal
himself, with their military rivals : a consideration calculated to make
those sturdy soldiers now turn round in their graves!
On the Continent, it appears from Selden (Titles of Honor), that it
206 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
was at one time much doubted, whether a civilian could be invested with
the gold spurs of knighthood ; until Bartolus or Baldus, we forget
which, settled it in the affirmative. It might be interesting to learn the
reasons that swayed him in so deciding.
The questions proposed to the deponents of Sir Richard Scrope would
seem to have been the following : —
Do the arms az. with a bend or belong, or ought they of right to be-
long, to Sir Richard Scrope ? Have you heard or seen that the ancestors
of Sir Richard have borne the said arms ; and if so, have you heard by
what title or right they have borne them ? Have you heard who was
the first ancestor of Sir Richard Scrope who used them? Sometimes is
superadded the question, where the witness is supposed to incline to the
defence, Are you of the affinity or blood of Sir Robert Grosvenor ?
Some witnesses said, that Scrope's ancestor came over with William
the Conqueror j others, that he was temp Edward the Confessor j
others, that he came with Robert de Gant at the Conquest; others, that
he had borne the arms from King Arthur. Lord Grey de Ruthen said,
that he knew nothing of the Grosvenors, but that he had once purchased
from " one Emma Grovenour a black mare for twenty-two pounds."
This Emma Grosvenor was, as we have seen, the heiress of Mobberley,
who married the grandfather of the defendant.
When Sir William Brereton was called on behalf of Sir Richard
Scrope, and sworn, neither the entreaty of the proctor nor the admoni-
tion of the commissioners could induce him to open his lips to give
testimony; silence, says Sir Harris Nicolas, explained by his relationship
to the Grosvenors. He was fined 20/. for his contumacy.
With John Leycester,Esquier, we confess we think that the author deals
somewhat harshly, in attributing to him any undue feeling, in his protes-
tations of ignorance to the questions proposed to him; for those ques-
tions respected, as we have shown, merely the right of Sir Richard
Scrope, nor do we see why his admission, when examined for the
defendant, that he was his cousin in the third or fourth degree, should
make us conclude that the deponent had wilfully swerved from the truth
in his first examination.
The Scrope witnesses, for the most part, speak not merely to the
rights of Sir Richard Scrope, but to their ignorance, not only of the
rights but of the existence, either of Sir Robert or his family. There is,
however, one notable exception in the person of a member of the illus-
trious house of Percy, Sir Thomas Percy, afterwards Earl of Worcester,
brother of the Earl of Northumberland, who, although he gives strong
testimony to the Scrope right, yet admits that he has heard 'that Sir
Robert Grosvenor was a gentleman of high degree (grants gentilx
home). On the Grosvenor side, the negative evidence as to Scrope's
rights was almost equally strong, and some of the deponents even went
so far as to say, they had never heard of Sir Richard, a species of reta-
liation somewhat amusing, but which, from the distinguished position of
th^ noble plaintiff, must have almost argued themselves unknown.
Robert de Stanlegh, Esquire, had heard since the suit, that the said
Sir Richard Scrope, and Henry his father, had borne the said arms, but
no other of their progenitors before them.
Richard Talbot says, that he had heard many say that Sir Richard
Scrope was only the third in the line of his ancestors who had borne the
said arms.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 207
In one instance, that of Sir Thomas Mandevill, whose name is not
upon the roll of witnesses, the evidence of a witness was sent to the
Constable and Marshal in the form of a letter, which Sir Harris Nicolas
found in the Harleian Collection. We give another similar testimonial
of the Earl of Oxford at length, from a transcript also in one of the
Harleian MSS., 1178, 436, not because any new fact is stated, or any
additional light thrown upon the question litigated, but because it illus-
trates the loose course of proceeding in the Court of Chivalry, which ad-
mitted, it would seem, " all evidence of an honourable and authentic
nature except battle, which was in this case expressly excluded," the
reason being, that the dispute was susceptible of establishment by oral
and written testimony, and therefore battle, which was an appeal to the
decision of God on the failure of human evidence, could not, upon the
customary rules, be resorted to ; but the chief reason why we insert this
document is, because Sir Harris Nicolas has neither given it in his
notes, nor even alluded to its existence.
It is entitled " A letter testimoniall," but is somewhat strangely de-
scribed in the Harleian Catalogue as " Literse Patentes Alberici de Veer
Com. Oxoniensis, quibus testimonium rogatus adhibuit suum, in causa
Armorum ventilata, inter Ricardum le Scrope et Robertum Grosvenour,
dat. 11 die Martij, ann. 14 R. K. Richardi II."
It commences —
"As honorables Srs Constable et Mareshall d'Engleterre Aubry de Veer
honors et reverence. Pur ceo q. Monsr Richard le Scrop a chalenge
Monsr Robert Grovenour en la viage nostre Sr le Roy darrein fait en
Escoce portant ses armes d'azure ove bende d'ore, et a poursue centre
le dit MODS'. Robert en vre. honorable Court de Chivalrie, come ley et
raison de armes denmunde selon 1'ordinance roial fait devant le dit Chi-
valrie tanq' ati temps q. vous lui avez ajuge de faire son prove contre le
dit Monsr Robert par tons proves honorables et autentiques forsprist le bataille
q. vous eschuez en tons cases ou vous pouvez avoir autre prouve. Et sur ceo
m'a requis de vous certifier la conissana que je ay en ladite matiere. Si
vous certifie et tesmoigne a verite par certes rnes lettres ouertees, exse-
lees de mon seal q. en la temps que jay este arme en batailles et autres
journees jay voir et conu q. le dit Monsr Richard a porte ses ditz armes
d'azure ove une bend d'ore et plusieurs de son norn et linage qui ont
portez mesme les armes ove differences come braunches de mesme les
nom et armes et si en band, penon et cotearmure, et ny qie de mes aun-
cestres q. en mesme le maniere ses armes susditz ount este portez en
leur temps par les auncestres de dit Monsr Richard. Et Unques en mon
temps n'ay ven le dit Monsr Robert Grovenor, ne nul de son nom porter
le ditz armes devant la darneyr chivache Monsr Sr le Roy susdit ne ay
oie q. ses auncestres ont fait devant. Done a Londres le onzieme jour
deMarse,l'an du regne le Roy Richard second puis le conquest noevisme."
The above is inserted in a miscellaneous collection made by the Herald
Lennard.
In the Scrope cause of arms, trial by battle was, we have seen,
expressly excluded j but in the cause of Grey de Ruthyn against Hastings,
the proceedings became even more dramatic, the lie was given by the
defendant to the plaintiff in open court, and an appeal to the arbitre-
ment of arms (not however even there allowed it would seem,) made.
After calling upon Grey to abandon the use of the arms in dispute 5 in
208 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
the event of his refusal, Hastings (following probably a formula of
words) thus concludes : —
" I require thee, by vertue of thy knighthood, that thou stand by
thy word in thy proper person, till it be determined by our bodies as
knighthood will, the which worde thou hast replied by thine owne
mouth, against the word of answeare given by my mouth and written
with my hand, and ensealed with my seal in the same court, and that
thou pursue deligently withouten feintis by thee and thy frendes, that
the worde be admitted for full proof, the which worde as thy partie
ben there in substance. Thou lyes falsely lewed knight, and that I am
ready to prove with my bodye against thy body, and therefore here
is my glove to wedde, and I aske day and place."*
If one counsel demurred to another counsel's law, this was said some
years ago to have been good ground for a duel in Dublin, a mode of pro-
ceeding not unreasonable if viewed in analogy to the chivalrous practice
wherever the legal point involved such difficulties in its decision as to
transcend human abilities or ingenuity to unravel ! ! Then was the
knot deo vindice nodus, proper to be left to the decision of God, made
manifest by the result of a duel ! ! !
" On the part of Sir Richard Grosvenor (says Ormerod) were examined
nearly all the knights and gentlemen of Cheshire and Lancashire, with
several of the Abbots and other clergy, all of whom deposed to the
usage of the arms by the Grosvenors, and to having seen them painted
on windows, standards, and monuments in twenty four churches,
chapels and monasteries in Cheshire ; the family charters and deeds, with
seals appendant, exhibiting the same bearing, were produced before the
court, and it was stated on the authority of chronicles and monastic re-
cords that all the ancestors of Sir Robert had used the same coat from
time immemorial, and more particularly that it was used by Gilbert le
Grosvt nor, at the Conquest j by Ranfe le Grosvenor, at the battle of
Lincoln ; by Robert le Grosvenor, in the crusade under Richard I. ; by
Robert 1 j Grosvenor, in the Scotch wars under Edward II. ; by another,
Robert, at Cressy, and in other battles under Edward III., and by the
claimant, Sir Robert himself as harbinger to Sir Thomas d'Audley,
lieutenant to the Black Prince, and in Berry Algayne, at the tower of
Brose, at the siege of Rocksivier, in Poictou, in Guienne, at Viers, in
Normandy, at the battle of Poictiers, at the battle of Najara in Spain,
in 1367, and lastly, at the battle of Limoges, in 1370, in the service of
the Black Prince.'' After this powerful and stringent evidence for the
defence, the weight of which the Lord High Constable himself acknow-
ledges in his sentence "de la partie du dit Robert nous avous trouves
grandes evidences et presumptions semblables en sa defence des dits
armes,'' Sir Peter Leycester may well have said without incurring any
suspicion of a local or family prejudice, " both the said partyes proved
their auncestores had successively borne the same coate of armes from
the tyme of the Norman Conquest to that present, but Sir Richard
Scrope overweighing the other with powerful friends, had the coate
avarded to him. But although the sayd Sir Robert Grosvenor had this
coat also awarded to him, with the difference of a bordure, yet he
refused the same and took unto him the coate of azure une garbe d'or ;
* See a MS. transcript of proceeding in the case of Ruthen against Hastings, Harl.
MSS., 1178, fol. 36.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 209
which coate his heyres and successoures have ever since borne to-this
moment, scorning to beare the other coate with a difference." It will be seen,
however, that a note which will be subsequently given, as cited by Sir
Karris Nicholas, from a Harleian MS., affords a somewhat different
account of the sequel of the proceedings.
On the side of Scrope were examined parties still more numerous, still
more illustrious for rank, military fame, and genius, Edmund of Langley,
Duke of York, John of Gaunt, King of Castile and Leon, both uncles of
the king, Sir John Holand, afterwards Duke of Exeter, he was brother
to the king, the Earls of Derby, Arundel, and Northumberland, the Lords
Poynings, Basset, Clifford, Dacre, Darcy, Grey of Ruthven, and Scales,be-
sides many abbots, and knights, esquires, and gentlemen, among whom
stands clearly forth, Harry Percy (Hotspur), whose spur was so soon to be-
come "cold.'' He had a subsequent connexion with the county of Chester,
by reason of his appointment of Judge of Chester, in which office, sin-
gularly enough, he succeeded William le Scrope, Earl of Wiltshire, the
unfortunate son of the plaintiff, Sir Richard. He was judge "eo modo
quo Willielmus le Scrop habuit," and he had power to act by deputy.*
But his father-in-law, Owen Glendower, from his residence on the Welsh
borders, must have known more of the bearings of Cheshire families,
and Glendower is one of the Grosvenor witnesses. But let us haste to
the issue of these accumulated proceedings ; we give it in the words
of the note cited by the learned author, from a Harleian MS.
" The Constables Judgment dyd gyve Mr Scroope thole Armes, &
Mr Grosvenor a hordre whyte to yt and Grosvenour to paye the costs
synce he toke daye of excepc'ons agenst the wytnes, but he apealyd to
the Kinge, & uttrelye refusyd the newe apoyntyd armes and Judgment,
wherfor the King gave Judgement as followeth
27 Maij A° 13, 1390, A° p'mo
Bonifacij noni pape.
The K's Judgement geven in the great chambre of P'liament wthin
his palyce Royall at Westm' present wth ym his uncles the Dukes of
Gwyen & Glowcestre, the Bishope of London, the Lords John Roos,
Raufe Nevyll & John Lovell, John Dev'eux Steward of his howsse, his
Vycechamb'layne Henrye P'cye the sone, Mathewe de Gourney, Hugh
Zowche, Bryan de Stapleton, Rychard Addreburye & WilPmde Far-
ringdon Knights & others, that tharmes shuld whollye remayne to
Sr Rychard Scroope & his heyres, & Mr Grosvenour to have no p'te
therof bycawsse he was a stranger vnto the same.
And for the byll of thexpencs amountynge to iiijc Ixvj11 xiij8 iiijd spent
betwene the 9th of Octobre A° 11 Rich'i ijdi, wch was the daye that the
seid Roberte had taken excepc'ons agenst the wytnesses untyll the 27
of Maye A° 13 wch daye the Kinge gave Judgement & by the Comys-
saryes vidz the Busshoppe of London, the Lord Cobham, Mr John
Barnet, & Rychard Rouhale, hyt was ceassyd to L m'kes, but aft re for
that the seid Roberte wold not appeare but was obstynate hyt was
agayne ceassyd by the Kinge to vc m'kes, beinge on Munday the fyrst
day of the P'lyament 3rd of Octobre A° 15 Rich'i ij^, these beinge
present, the Duke of Gwyen, the Archebusshoppe of Dyvelye, the
Busshopps of London Chestre & Chychestre, the Erles of Darby
Rutland M'che Arundell Huntyngton & Northumb'land, the Lords
Roos Nevyll & Cobham & other.
* See Ormerod's Cheshire, vo\. \. p. 58.
210 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
Wh seid Som' of vc m'kes the seyd Sr Roberta Grosvenour requestyd
the seyd Sr Rychard Scroope to forgive hym, who agayne answeryd that
he had so ivell usyd hym & belyed hym in his Awnsweres, that he
des'vyd no courtesye ; who agayne aunswerd hyt was not his doings
but his Counsellors to make his mattre seame the bettre, and that
he knewe he dyd not well nor seyd trewlye therin, wheruppon he agayne
answeryd that yf he wolde so openlye declare p'fesse & confesse & be
content hit shuld so be enteryd of recourde, wch he requestyd the Kinge
hit myght be, that then he wold forgyve hym, wch was done accordinglye
and the Som' forgeven & they made frynds afor the Kinge in the
P'lyament howsse."
It needs only to peruse the sentence of the Lord High Constable,
delivered by the advice of the marshal and the " conseille de chivalrie"
to be certain that the less powerful and influential of the two parties
was hardly dealt with. For, although in a cause of arms, each was
quasi an actor or plaintiff, and therefore the important principle of the
civil law (adopted from its essential propriety into every modern system
of jurisprudence), potior est conditio defendentis ; might be considered
as inapplicable, still no law of justice or principle of reason could pos-
sibly require that a defendant should, under any circumstances, have
entailed upon him the necessity of a greater amount of proof than a
plaintiff, and yet what says the Lord High Constable in his sentence ?*
" That the said Sir Richard Scrope, Knight, party actor, has fully and
sufficiently proved his claim, touching the said arms by witnesses,
chronicles, and other sufficient evidences, and that the said Sir Robert has
not in any respect disproved the proofs of the said Sir Richard, and there-
fore he awarded, pronounced, and declared that Scrope should bear the
entire arms, &c." So that the Cheshire knight was, it seems, not merely
called upon to prove an uninterrupted use by himself and his ancestors,
but to prove actually the negative, that no one else had a similar right
to the same ensigns. Now, that two parties might be allowed the
same arms where user could be satisfactorily proved by each is evident,
because Carminow, had, it appears in the course of these very proceed-
ings been awarded the selfsame use of arms.
One of the Grosvenor witnesses deposed that, but for the chal-
lenge made by Scrope of the arms az. a bend or, Sir Robert Gros-
venor would himself have become the challenger or plaintiff. Had he
done so, the subsequent sentence might, upon similar reasoning, have
been retained, changing merely the names of Scrope and Grosvenor,
where these occurred : for " the testimony of two hundred witnesses the
evidence of chronicles and charters might be said to have sufficiently
proved the claim of Grosvenor, and the said Sir Richard had not in any
respect disproved the proofs of the said Sir Robert.
The well descended wealthy Cheshire Knight could not stand against
the prestige, and perhaps political influence of the warrior statesman
Scrope, a Baron of the Realm who had already proved his own right in a
previous suit of arms, and had not, according to Walsingham, " his fel-
low (of his degree) in the whole kingdom for prudence and inte-
grity.'' It may be said without any injurious conclusion, that Scrope
had for judges, not merely companions in arms, but personal friends.
An impartial reader will be inclined to think that the decisions in
* Vol. i. p. 7.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 211
the first instance, and on appeal, involved at least a slight to the rising-
family of Grosvenor, and that as the evidence on both sides tended to show
a long use of the arms by both families, it would have been a fairer
and less invidious mode of proceeding to have either given entirely new
bearings to each claimant, or to have left them each the main features
of the ancient insignia, obliging both noblemen to assume certain differ-
ences. When the gay decorations of the gondolas of the Venetian
Patricians, commencing in a pardonable emulation, had at last led to
dangerous rivalry and animosity, to feuds on the quays and furious
contests and brawls upon the canals, the council of ten dealt summarily,
but, at least, impartially, with the evil. No longer did the lagunes
reflect the gay colours and floating banners of any of the nobles, but
assumed an appearance more in harmony with the gloomy grandeur of
the palaces, and the solemn majesty of the more ancient edifices.
Dark, unadorned, hearse-like looking boats glided noiselessly upon the
unruffled surface of the waters, and but for the inherent vivacity and
merriment of the Venetian people, and the graceful lightness and
elegance of the subsequent architectural erections of Palladio, the
brilliancy of its sun, and the clear blue of its heaven, Venice would
in appearance have anticipated the period when she became in the
language of modern English poetry, " the city of the dead." The
ordinance in question forbad any ornaments to be used for gondolas, and
prescribed for all one uniform colour, which they still preserve to this
day, "the sober livery of solemn black."
What better,whatmoreconclusiveevidence of the antiquity of thenobility
of any family in the British Peerage than that here produced on the part
of Grosvenor ? Here are upwards of two hundred of respectable witnesses
to the high pretensions of the family, crying aloud in the middle of the
14th century, in the presence of peers, spiritual and temporal, of the most
renowned knights and warriors of Crecy and Poictiers, nay, of very royalty
itself, " Grosvenor is a name of ancient fame — Grosvenor is a scion
of royal stock — its founder, a nephew of Hugh Lupus, first Earl of
Chester. Grosvenor bore arms az. a bend or from the Conquest.''
Grosvenor is our kinsman, ejaculate members of some of the oldest
houses of Cheshire, the Breretons, the Davenports, the Vernons, the
Etons, the Leycesters, the Stanleys, and the Daniels, &e. What, though
some state themselves to be " cosyns del dit Mons. Robert, only, en
le tierce et quarte degres," the more distant the relationship the more
remote the common ancestor, the more remote the common ancestor
the more ancient the family. But the nobility, that is the gentle blood
of the house of Grosvenor, was not in question at that early period, for
the proceedings themselves style the defendant "nobilem virum Rober-
tum Grosvenor militem."*
No exception was taken to the nobility of the house but only to its right
to bear the particular arms. But who was that Carminow of Cornwall,
styled by Sir Harris Nicolas (on what authority we know not as we find it
not in these depositions) an Esquire? Who was the party calledt " un dez
Carmynaue de Cornewall," who succeeded in a contest in which Grosve-
nor failed ? Did he triumphantly vindicate his claim to the arms, by the
* Vol. i. pp. 15 and 23.
t See deposition of John Tapcliffe, Esquire, vol. i, p. 213—4.
212 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
intrinsic merits of his case or by the intercession of powerful friends or
the employment of court favor? Of the family, Collins* tells us that
was considered the most considerable in Cornwall for antiquity and pos-
sessions. About the time of the proceedings in question, it numbered
amongst its members at least three knights, Sir Oliver, Sir Thomas, and
Sir Walter, and amongst its alliances by marriage (unerring sign of ancient
blood) some of the oldest names in Cornwall. At a subsequent period John
Carminow of Resprins was more famous for his wealth than any other
of his name or house, or than any other family in Cornwall. His Christmas
entertainments are recorded to have been on an extraordinary scale of mu-
nificent hospitality, the allowance for twelve days being twelve bullocks,
fifty bushels of wheat, thirty-six sheep, besides hogs, lambs and fowls of all
sorts. His son, however, squandered away the greater part of his inhe-
ritance, and the rest passed through coheiresses to the Boscawens, Earls
of Falmouth. The last heir male of the Carminows died in 1646, but
several of the most noted county families, the Coles, Courtenays,Prideaux,
Trevanions and Arundels of Lanherne, denote by their quarterings their
descent from female heiresses of different branches of that ancient stock.
" It is a melancholy reflection to look back on so many great families,
(says Dr. Borlase,and he ranks Carminow amongst them) as have formerly
adorned the county of Cornwall and are now no more The most
lasting families have only their seasons, more or less, of a certain con-
stitutional strength. They have their spring and summershine glares,
their wane, decline, and death j they flourish and shine perhaps for ages -,
at last they sicken 5 their light grows pale and at a crisis when the offsets
are withered and the old stock is blasted, the whole tribe disappears and
leaves the world as they have done Cornwall. There are limits ordained
to everything under the sun. Man will not abide in honour. Of all human
vanities, family pride is one of the weakest. Reader, go thy way : secure
thy name in the book of life, where the page fades not, nor the title alters,
nor expires ; leave the rest to Heralds, and the Parish register."
Who, however, we repeat, was the " one called Carminow of Cornwall,"
mentioned in the depositions of John of Gaunt and John Rither, Esquier,
as having successfully resisted the exclusive right of the Scropes to the
arms az. a bend or ? The Christian name is fixed by another witness, a
relative, Sir Thomas Fychett, who states that " Thomas Carminow of
Cornwall, who is his relation, had a controversy with the said Sir Richard
and his lineage, on account of the said arms, in France, before the Earl
of Northampton, the which Thomas Carminow proved these arms from
the time of King Arthur, and the said Sir Richard from the time of
King William the Conqueror j whereupon it was agreed, that as the said
Thomas Carminow had proved usage before the Conquest, he ought of
right to bear them : and that the said Sir Richard might also bear
them, he having proved his right from the time of King William the
Conqueror."
The individual thus selected for attack byScrope must have been one
of the heads of his family, who then could he be but the Thomas Car-
minow (mentioned in Lysons' Cornwall), afterwards knighted, who be-
came Lord Chamberlain to Richard II., and who married Elizabeth,
daughter of Joan Plantagenet, the fair maid of Kent, and therefore sister
* Peerage, vol. vii. p. 273.
THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 2J3
of the half blood to the King, and sister of the whole blood to Sir Thomas
Holland, Duke of Exeter, another of the deponents in this cause ? Ac-
cording to the Carminow pedigree in Polwhele's Cornwall, the cham-
berlainship is assigned to an earlier ancestor and an impossible date (1 348.)
And here again a suspicion suggests itself of a counter court favour in-
fluencing the decision, arid neutralizing the influence of the Scrope. Be
this, however, as it may, the Carminows and the Scropes were allowed to
bear simultaneously the same ensigns.*
Certainly the absence of colours, or any mark to indicate colour-
ing, on the sepulchral effigies, would constitute these a very inadequate
proof of the user of disputed arms ; and accordingly one of the deponents,
Adam Newson (vol. i. p. 68), stated "that Sir Robert Grovenour sprung
from the Grovenours of the county of Chester, whose ancestors lie buried
in the Abbey of Chester, but," he added, " the arms were not pour-
trayed in colours on their bodies." But still, this was not always so as to
their monuments, and the objection does not apply to stained windows.
The arms in question were of great simplicity, and without an effi-
cient Herald's College : and in a kingdom surrounded by distinct
enemies (the Scotch, the French, the Welsh), whose knights, until the
French wars in the reign of Edward III., rarely, it may be supposed,
served much together, but were divided to encounter their various ene-
mies, was it extraordinary, that in remote parts of the same kingdom,
three families had long used, unconsciously it may have been, the same
arms. The Carminow of Cornwall, which, in the words of one of the
deponents, " had formerly been a kingdom j" the Scropes of Yorkshire,
and the Grosvenors of the County Palatine (almost another little king-
dom) of Chester.
In our view, it was not until this reign (that of Richard II.), that the
coincidences of armorial bearings came to be much considered, the
nature of the right to bear them questioned, or that blazonry became a
science. It would seem about this time, from the frequency of the
causes brought before the Court of Chivalry, that the military forces
that had been assembled from all parts of the kingdom for the French
wars, had brought together many distinct families with the same cogni-
zances, which they then only for the tirst time became aware that
they had borne concurrently. It was worthy of note, in an heraldic
point of view, that no heralds were called to give evidence upon the
subject-matter of controversy, from which the conclusion is legitimate,
that at that period no evidences were preserved by them of right to arms,
otherwise the omission of the ancestral bearings of a house so ancient,
so powerful, and so influential, as that of Scrope undoubtedly was, would
be wholly inexplicable.
One singular feature in this trial is the strong bias in the minds of the
sets of witnesses, in behalf of the respective parties by whom they
were called j an instance of how strong was the fteling,in feudal times,
to run to clanship and rally around a great name.
The author appears to have doubted at one time whether the Hugh
* According to Polwhele the order was somewhat different, " as Scrope was a baron
of the realm, it was ordered that Carminow should still bear the same coat, but with a
pile in chief gules for distinction ; on which Carminow took up the Cornish motto.
*' Calarag Whethlow," " a straw for a talebearer."— (Language and Literature of Corn,
wall.)
VOL. IV. NO. XVII. R
214 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.
Calverley, who made a deposition in the cause, was the celebrated war-
rior, Hugh ? But it seems, from the before cited note of the pro-
ceedings, in the Harleian MS., 1178, p. 191 (b), that Hugh Calverley,
Knight, acted on one occasion as deputy for the Constable, May 6, 1386.
Now he could hardly be both judge and witness.
Thus, reader, have we at length fulfilled our task, and have endea-
voured, by a comparatively brief narrative, to turn your attention to a
singular judicial pageant of the fourteenth century, to a spectacle in
which kings, poets, statesmen, and warriors were actors, England the
stage, the world of Chivalry the audience, and the subject that charac-
teristic creation of knightly honour and feudal institutions, "Cotearmure."
Would we study the genius, the manners of a people, where should we
better seek them than in these graphic delineations of national wisdom
or folly, these contemporary records that hold a faithful mirror to the
age, and fix the reflection for the study, the admiration, or the marvel of
future generations? A remark, we believe it is, of Mr. Hallam, that the
character, the individuality of a distinct people, is lost sight of, or vainly
looked for in the abstract page of general history ; and if we would
really know what manner of men our ancestors were, what they did, how
they felt and thought, we must approach them in the chronicles, the
books of letters, or familiar literature of their day. How, we may con-
fidently ask, can we better acquaint ourselves with the lives and opinions
and sentiments of our steel-clad progenitors (coevals of the Black Prince)
than by a perusal of what they say in the case of Scrope and Grosvenor ?
Many a patient antiquary has, perhaps, in former times applied himself
to the labour (to him a labour of love) of decyphering the faded, con-
tracted text, of perusing the Law Latin and the Norman French, in
which the testimony of abbots and priors, of nobles and knights, lies
confounded together in the lengthy parchments of the Scrope and Gros-
venor roll, and if all difficulties surmounted, he who runs may now
read, the praise, the honour is due to the untiring exertions of Sir Harris
Nicolas. His two volumes we have perused with profit and pleasure,
and shall look forward with interest to the third and concluding volume,
long ago promised, and too long deferred, in which the author proposes
to give us a history of the influential house of Grosvenor, and to com-
plete his biographical notices of thfe remaining witnesses. *
* Sir Peter Leycester made extracts from an account of the pleadings in the suit,
and collated them with the originals in the Tower. The extracts exist among the
Tabley Papers, but the Grosvenor transcript is, we believe, said to be lost.
215
THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
(Continued).
MACDUFF. O horror! horror ! horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive,
nor name thee !
MACBETH, LENNOX. What's the matter ?
MACDUFF. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece !
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.
MACBETH. What is't you say ? the life ?
LENNOX. Mean you his maj esty ?
SHAKESPEARE.
JAMES I., the British Solomon, whom the Duke of Sulley termed the
wisest fool in Europe, ended his life and reign of questionable repute
peaceably enough. His death happened the 27th March, 1625, in the
fifty-ninth year of his age, and the twenty-third of his sovereignty.
His indisposition was at first considered a tertian ague, afterwards the
gout in the stomach; but, whatever was its real nature, under his
obstinacy in refusing medicine, and the hesitation or ignorance of his
physicians, it proved fatal. On the eleventh day he received the sacra-
ment in the presence of his son, his favourite, and his attendants, with a
serenity of mind and fervour of devotion which drew tears from the
eyes of the beholders. " Being told that men in holy orders in the church
of England doe challange a power as inhaerent in their function and not
in their person, to pronounce and declare remission of sins to such as
being penitent doe call for the same ; he answered suddenly, I have ever
beleeved there was the power in you that be in the orders in the church
of England, and therefore I, a miserable sinner, doe humbly desire
Almighty God to absolve me of my sinnes, and you, that are his servant
in that high place, to affoord me this heavenly comfort. And after the
absolution read and pronounced, hee received the sacrament with the
zeale and devotion, as if he had not been a fraile man, but a cherubin
cloathed with flesh and blood." Early on the fourteenth he sent for
Charles : but before the prince could reach the chamber, the king had
lost the faculty of speech, and in the course of a few hours expired, in
the fifty-ninth year of his age, and the twenty-third of his reign. Of
his seven children, three sons and four daughters, two only survived
him ; Charles, his successor on the throne, and Elizabeth, the titular
queen of Bohemia.
We now come to that regal death, which, on the part of him who endured
it was the most glorious in the annals of English history. Let his errors
have been what they may, one cannot recur to that terrible termination
of the life of Charles I., without feelings of deep reverence, awe, and
admiration. Charles, with his cavaliers about him, supported the prin-
ciple of monarchy against rebellion in arms. Again, when defenceless
and alone, in the power of his ruthless enemies, he maintained unflinch-
R 2
216 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
ingly the same principle against rebellion triumphant. He sanctified
that principle in his blood, and by doing so, saved the constitution.
During the long period of republicanism, and then anarchy which
ensued, the sight of a king dying on the scaffold for his cause passed
not from the recollection of his people. The fact was there, impressed
upon and irremoveable from the minds of men, that the commonwealth
party, to obtain dominion, had been forced to cut the king's head off
with the crown upon it. He had yielded nothing — forfeited nothing.
The principle of monarchy remained— obscured indeed, but sparkling
ever and anon, and ready at any moment to burst forth into permanent
brilliancy again. It was, to use the words of the poet, a
Glimpse of glory ne'er forgot
Which told like the gleam on a sunset sea
What once had been, what then was not,
But oh ! what again would brightly be.
And yet, with all his spirit and determination, how like a Christian
Charles met the approach of his fearful death. There was not one par-
ticle of ostentation in his courage, or his piety. He evinced the meek-
ness and resolution of a martyr. His very conduct on the scaffold
awoke the crowd around him to the deep damnation of his taking off.
His death was indeed the triumph of his cause.
The details of the martyrdom of King Charles are so familiar, that
it would seem almost unnecessary to insert them here, yet the omission
would go to exclude the most important portion of this regal necrology :
moreover, the narrative cannot be read too often, for, it is right that, at
every opportunity, we should
question this most bloody piece of work
And know it farther.
Charles as is well known, underwent a mock trial before the sham
High Court of Justice. He denied and rejected its authority, jurisdic-
tion or legality, and he was sentenced by it to be beheaded. This doom
was pronounced on Saturday, the 27th January, 1649. The court, after
judgment given, went into the Painted- Chamber, and appointed Sir
Hardress Waller, Ireton, Harrison, Dean and Okey, to consider of the
time and place for the execution.
The king was taken by the guards to Sir Robert Cotton's house, and
as he passed down stairs, the rude soldiers scoffed at him, blew the smoke
of their tobacco in his face (a thing always very offensive to him)
strewed pieces of pipes in his way, and one, more insolent than the rest,
spit in his face, which his majesty patiently wiped off, taking no further
notice of it : and as he passed farther, hearing some of them cry out,
Justice, justice, and execution, he said, " Alas ! poor souls, for a piece of
money, they would do as much for their commanders." Afterwards the
king hearing that his execution was determined to be the next day,
before his palace at Whitehall, he sent an officer in the army to desire
that he might see his children before his death, and that Dr. Juxon,
Bishop of London, might be permitted to assist him in his private
devotions, and receiving the sacrament, both which were granted to him
upon a motion to the parliament.
Next day being Sunday, he was attended by a guard to St. James's,
where the bishop preached before him upon these words : " In the day
THE DKATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 2 17
when God shall judge the secrets of all men by Jesus Christ, according
to my gospel.''
The same day that the warrant was signed for his execution, the
Duke of Gloucester, and the Lady Elizabeth, were brought to him,
whom he received with great joy and satisfaction, and giving his
blessing to the princess, he bade her remember to tell her brother
James, that he should no more look upon Charles as his elder brother
only, but as his sovereign, and forgive their father's enemies. Then
taking the Duke of Gloucester upon his knee, said, Sweet heart, now
they will cut off thy father's head, (at which words the child looked
very wishfully upon him). Mark, child, what I say $ they will cut off my
head, and, perhaps, make thee a king: but mark what I say, you must
not be a king so long as your brothers Charles and James are alive j for
they will cut off your brothers' heads, as soon as they can catch them,
and cut thy head off too at last, and therefore I charge you, do not be
made a king by them. At which the child sighing, said, " I will be
torn in pieces first."
The warrant for his Majesty's execution was signed on the 2Qth, and
ran thus : —
"Whereas Charles Stewart, king of England, is, and standeth convicted*
attainted and condemned of high-treason, and other high crimes, and sentence*
upon Saturday last, was pronounced against him by this court, to be put to
death, by the severing of his head from his body ; of which sentence execution
yet remaineth to be done : These are therefore to will and require you to see
the said sentence executed in the open street, before Whitehall, upon the
morrow, being the 30th day of January, between the hours of ten in the
morning and five in the afternoon of the same day, with full effect, and for
so doing, this shall be your sufficient warrant, and these are to require all officers,
soldiers, and others the good people of this nation of England, to be assisting
unto you in this service.
To Colonel Francis -Hacker, Colonel Huncks and
Lieutenant-Colonel Phory, and to every of them.
Given under our hands and seals, sealed and subscribed by
John Bradshaw, Thomas Horton, Henry Martin,
Thomas Grey, John Jones, Vincent Potter,
Oliver Cromwell, John More, William Constable,
Edward Whaley, Hardress Waller, Richard Ingoldsby,
Michael Livesay, Gilbert Millington, William Cawley,
John Okey, John Alured, John Barkstead,
John Peters, Robert Lilburn, Isaac Ewers,
John Bouchier, William Say, John Dixwell,
Henry Ireton, Anthony Stapeley, Valentine Walton,
Thos. Mauleverer, Richard Dean, Gregory Norton,
John Blackiston, Robert Titchburn, Thomas Challoner,
John Hutchinson, Humphrey Edwards, Thomas Wogan,
William Goffe, Daniel Blagrave, JohnVen, M
Thomas Pride, Owen Roe, Gregory Clement,
Peter Temple, William Purefoy, John Downs,
Thomas Harrison, Adrian Scrope,j Thomas Temple,
John Huson, James Temple. Thomas Scot,
Henry Smith, Augustine Garland, John Carew,
Peregrine Pelham, Edmond Ludlow, Miles Corbet.
Simon Meyne,
On the next day, being the 30th January, the Bishop of London read
divine service in his presence, and the 2rth of St. Matthew, the history
218 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.
of our Saviour's passion, being appointed by the church for that day, he
gave the bishop thanks for his seasonable choice of the lesson ; but the
bishop acquainting him that it was the service of the day, it comforted
him exceedingly, and then he proceeded to receive the holy sacrament.
His devotions being ended, he was brought from St. James's to White-
hall, by a regiment of foot, part before, and part behind, with a private
guard of partisans about him, the Bishop of London on the one hand,
and Colonel Tomlinson, who had the charge of him, on the other,
bareheaded. The guards marched at a slow pace, the king bade them
go faster, saying, that he now went before them to strive for a heavenly
crown, with less solicitude than he had often encouraged his soldiers
to fight for an earthly diadem. Being come to the end of the park, he
went up the stairs leading to the long gallery in Whitehall, where
formerly he used to lodge, and there finding an unexpected delay, the
scaffold being not ready, he past most of the time in prayer. About
twelve o'clock (his Majesty refusing to dine, only ate a bit of bread and
drank a glass of claret) Colonel Hacker, with other officers and soldiers,
brought the king, with the bishop, and Colonel Tomlinson, through the
banqueting-house, to the scaffold, a passage being made through a
window. There might have been nothing mysterious in the delay : if
there was, it may perhaps be explained from the following circumstance.
Four days had now elapsed since the arrival of ambassadors from the
Hague to intercede in his favour. It was only on the preceding evening
that they had obtained audiences of the two houses, and hitherto no
answer had been returned. In their company came Seymour, the bearer
of two letters from the prince of Wales, one addressed to the king, the
other to Lord Fairfax. He had already delivered the letter, and with it a
sheet of blank paper subscribed with the name and sealed with the
arms of the prince. It was the price which he offered to the grandees
of the army for the life of his father. Let them fill it up with the con.
ditions : whatever they might be, they were already granted : his seal
and signature were affixed. It is not improbable that this offer may
have induced the leaders to pause. That Fairfax laboured to postpone
the execution, was always asserted by his friends; and we have evidence
to prove that, though he was at Whitehall, he knew not, or at least
pretended not to know, what was passing.
In the mean while Charles enjoyed the consolation of learning that
his son had not forgotten him in his distress. By the indulgence of
Colonel Tomlinson, Seymour was admitted, delivered the letter, and
received the royal instructions for the prince. He was hardly gone,
when Hacker arrived with the fatal summons. About two o'clock
the king proceeded through the long gallery, lined on each side with
soldiers, who, far from insulting the fallen monarch, appeared by their
sorrowful looks to sympathise with his fate. At the end an aperture had
been made in the wall, through which he stepped at once upon the
scaffold. It was hung with black : at the further end were seen the two
executioners, the block, and the axe j below appeared in arms several
regiments of horse and foot ; and beyond, as far as the eye was per-
mitted to reach, waved a dense and countless crowd of spectators. The
king stood collected and undismayed amidst the apparatus of death.
There was in his countenance that cheerful intrepidity, in his demeanour
that dignified calmness, uhich had characterised, in the hall of Forther-
ingay, his royal grandmother, Mary Stuart. A strong guard of several
THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 21Q
regiments of horse and foot, were planted on all sides, which hindered the
near approach of the people, and the king being upon the scaffold,
chiefly directed his speech to the bishop and Colonel Tomlinson, to this
purpose : —
I shall be very little heard of any body else ; I shall therefore speak
a word to you here : Indeed, I could have held my peace well, if I did
not think that holding my peace would make some men think that
I did submit to the guilt, as well as the punishment ; but I think it is
my duty to God first, and then to my country, to clear myself, both as
an honest man, a good king, and a good Christian. I shall begin first
with my innocency, and, in troth, I think it not very needful to insist
long upon this; for all the world knows, that 1 did never begin a war
with the two houses of parliament, and I call God to witness, unto
whom I must shortly make an account, that I did never intend to
encroach upon their privileges ; they began upon me. It is the militia
they began upon; they confessed the militia was mine, but they thought
tit to have it from me : And, to be short, if any body will look to the
dates of commission, of their commissions and mine, and likewise to
the declaration, he will see clearly, that they began these troubles, and
not I. So as for the guilt of these enormous crimes that are laid against
me, I hope that God will clear me. I will not, for I am in charity, and
God forbid I should lay it upon the two houses of parliament, there is
no necessity for either: I hope they are free of this guilt j but
I believe, that ill instruments between them and me, have been the cause
of all this bloodshed ; so that as I find myself clear of this, I hope, and
pray God, that they may too : Yet, for all this, God forbid I should be
so ill a Christian, as not to say God's judgments are just upon me.
Many times he doth pay justice by an unjust sentence — that is ordinary,
I will say this, that an unjust sentence that I suffered to take effect, is
punished by an unjust sentence upon me: So far I have said, to shew
you, that I am an innocent man.
Now, to show that I am a good Christian, I hope there is a good
man [pointing to the bishop] that will bear me witness, that I have for-
given all the world, and even those in particular that have been the cause
of my death ; who they are, God knows ; I do not desire to know : I
pray God forgive them. But this is not all, my charity must go farther ;
I wish that they may repent. Indeed, they have committed a great sin
in that particular. 1 pray God, with St. Stephen, that it be not laid
to their charge ; and withal, that they may take the way to the peace of
the kingdom ; for my charity commands me not only to forgive particular
men, but endeavour to the last gasp, the peace of the kingdom. So,
Sirs, I do wish with all my soul (I see there are some here that will
carry it farther) the peace of the kingdom. Sirs, I must show you how
you are out of the way, and put you in the way. First, You are out of
the way ; for certainly all the ways you ever had yet, as far as ever I
could find by any thing, are wrong. If in the way of conquest, certainly
this is an ill way ; for conquest, in my opinion, is never just, except
there be a good and just cause, either tor matter or wrong, or a just
title ; and then if you go beyond the first quarrel, that makes that
unjust at the end that was just at first; for if there be only matter of
conquest, then it is a robbery, as a pirate said to Alexander, that he was
a great robber, himself was bat a petty robber. And so, Sirs, 1 think
for the way that you are in, you are much out of the way. Now, Sirs,
220 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGN'S OF ENGLAND.
to put you in the way, believe it, you shall never go right, nor God will
never prosper you, until you give God his due, the king his due (that
is my successor) and the people their due : I am as much for them as
any of you. You must give God his due, by regulating the church
(according to the Scripture) which is now out of order j and to set you
in a way particularly now, I cannot; but only this, a national synod
freely called, freely debating among themselves, must settle this, when
every opinion is freely heard. For the king (then turning to a gentle-
man that touched the axe, he said, hurt not the axe that may hurt me).
Indeed, I will not — the laws of the land will clearly instruct you for that j
therefore, because it concerns my own particular, I give you a touch
of it. For the people, truly I desire their liberty and freedom as
much as any body whosoever j hut I must tell you, that their liberty
and freedom consists in having government under those laws, by which
their lives and their goods may be most their own. It is not in having
a share in the government, that is nothing appertaining to them : A
subject and a sovereign are clear differing things, and therefore, until
you do that, I mean, that you put the people into that liberty, as I say,
they will never enjoy themselves.
Sirs, it was for this that now I am come hither, for if I would have
given way to an arbitrary course, to have all laws changed, according to
the power of the sword, I need not to have come here; and therefore I
tell you, (and I pray God it be not laid to your charge) that I am the
martyr of the people. In troth, Sirs, I shall not hold you any longer :
I will only say this to you, that I could have desired a little time longer,
because I would have a little better digested this I have said, and there-
fore I hope you will excuse me; I have delivered my conscience, I pray
God you take those courses that are the best for the good of the
kingdom and your own salvation.
Bishop. — Though your Majesty's affections may be very well known
as to religion ; yet it may be expected that you should say something
thereof for the world's satisfaction.
King. — I thank you heartily, my Lord, for I had almost forgotten it.
In troth, Sirs, my conscience in religion, I think, is very well known to
all the world, and therefore I declare before you all, that I die a Christian,
according to the profession of the Church of England, as I found it left
me by my father ; and this honest man, I think, will witness it.
Then turning to the officers, he said, Sirs, excuse me for this same :
I have a good cause, and I have a gracious God, I. will say no more.
Then to Colonel Hacker, he said, take care that they do not put me
to pain.
A gentleman coming near the axe, the king said, take heed of the
axe, pray take heed of the axe.
Then speaking to the executioner, he said, I shall say but very
short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands, let that be your sign.
He then called to the bishop for his night-cap, and having put it on, he
said to the executioner, does my hair trouble you 1 who desired him to
put it all under his cap, which the king did accordingly, with the help of
the executioner, and the bishop. Then turning to the executioner,
he said, I have a good cause and a righteous God on my side.
Bishop. — There is but one stage more, this stage is turbulent and full
of trouble -f it is a short one ; but you may consider, it will soon carry
THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OP ENGLAND. 221
you from earth to heaven ; and there you will find a great deal of
cordial joy and happiness.
King. — I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no
disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.
Bishop. — You are exchanged from a temporary to an eternal crown —
a good exchange.
Then the king said, is my hair well ? and took off his cloak and his
George, giving his George to the bishop, saying, "remember." Then
he put off his doublet, and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak
again ; then looked upon the block, he said to the executioner, you
must set it^fast.
Executioner. — ft is fast, Sir.
King. — When I put out my hands this way (stretching them out)
then do you work. After that, having said two or three words to him-
self, as he stood with hands lift up to heaven, immediately stooping
down, he laid his neck upon the block ; and then the executioner again
putting his hair under his cap, the king, thinking he had been going to.
strike, said, stay for the sign.
Executioner. — Yes, I will, an't please your majesty.
Then, after a little pause, the king stretching forth his hands, the
executioner, at one blow, severed his head from his body.
After the stroke Was given, the body was presently coffined, and
covered with a velvet pall, immediately upon which, the bishop, and
Mr. Herbert, went with it to the back stairs to have it embalmed.
After embalming, his head was sewed on by two surgeons. This done,
the royal corpse was wrapt up in lead, covered with a velvet pall, and
then was removed to St. James's. The girdle, or circumscription of capital
letters, of lead, put about the king's coffin, had only these words, KING
CHARLES, 1648.
An extraordinary circumstance attended the deathbed of CHARLES II. ;
the king, who, at least to all outward appearance had previously been'a Pro-
testant, declared, when conscious of approaching dissolution, his adhesion
to the Church of Rome, and confessed to and received the sacrament from
a catholic priest. Most historians agree in this being the fact, but as
the catholic writers are of course more inclined to give the matter at
length, we borrow the following full details from one of them :
On the 2nd of February, 1684, the King was seized with a violent
fit of apoplexy, just as he came out of his closet, where he had been
for some time before he was dressed. The Duke of York was immedi-
ately advertised of it; but before he could get to his majesty's bed-
chamber, one Dr. King, being in the withdrawing-room, was called in,
and had let him blood ; and then, by application and remedies usual on
such occasions, (which was done by his own physicians,) he came per-
fectly again to his senses, so that next morning there were great hopes
of his recovery ; but on the fourth day, he grew so much worse that all
these hopes vanished, and the doctors declared they absolutely despaired
of his life, which made it high time to think of preparing for the other
world. Accordingly two bishops came to do their function ; who,
reading the prayers appointed in the Common Prayer Book, on that
occasion, when they came to the place where usually they exhort the
sick person to make a confession of his sins, the Bishop of Bath and
Wells, who was one of them, advertized him it was not of obligation ;
so, after a short exhortation, asked him if he were sorry for his sins ?
THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLA.ND.
which the king saying be was, the bishop pronounced absolution j and
then asked him if he pleased to receive the sacrament? to which he
added no reply j and being pressed by the bishop several times, gave no
other answers, but that it was time enough, or that he would think of it.
The duke, who stood all this time by his Majesty's bed-side, and seeing
that notwithstanding the bishop's solicitation, he would not receive the
communion from them, and knowing the king's sentiments in the mat-
ters of religion, concerning which he had lately had frequent conferences
with him, thought it a fit opportunity to remind him of it ; and therefore,
desiring the company to stand a little from the bed, said, he was over-
joyed to find his Majesty in the same mind he was when he spoke lately
to him in his closet about religion, at which time he pleased to show
him a paper he had writ himself of controversy, and therefore asked him
if he desired he should send for a priest to him? to which the King im-
mediately replied, " For God's sake, brother, do ; and please to lose no
time." But then reflecting on the consequence, added, "but will you
not expose yourself too much by doing it ?''
The duke, who never thought of danger when the king's service
called, though but in a temporal concern, much less in an eternal one,
answered, " Sir, though it cost me my life, I will bring one to you ;" and
immediately going into the next room, and seeing never a Catholic he
could send but the Count de Castel Machlor, he dispatched him on that
errand ; and though other priests were sent for, yet it fortuned none
could be got but Father Huddlestone, Benedictine monk, who had been
so assistant to his Majesty in making his escape after the battle of Wor-
cester ; who, being brought up a pair of back stairs into a private closet,
the duke advertised the king where he was, who thereupon ordered all
the people to withdraw except the Duke j but his Royal Highness
thought fit that my Lord of Bath, who was lord of the bed-chamber then
in waiting, and my Lord Feversham, the captain of his guards, should re-
main in the room, telling the king it was not fit he should be quite
alone with his Majesty, considering the weak condition he was then in ;
and, as s